An Unexpected Miracle
by TigerLily888
Summary: Hotch goes to Paris for a conference and bumps into Emily. Fic set after "Lauren". What happens next?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone, I'm rather nervous as this is my first fanfiction piece so please be kind with your reviews. I am a dedicated Hotch/Prentiss shipper and proud of it :D This is a story of their meeting and is set after "Lauren". I have written it as if Hotch was unaware that Emily had actually survived as I am not convinced having watched the JJ/Hotch scene at the hospital numerous times that she told him the truth. This piece is rated M for sexually explicit situations in later chapters so be warned. Thanks so much to my lovely beta REIDFANATIC and my great friend S.C. for help with French. Any mistakes are mine alone. Please let me know what you think! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Criminal Minds related and no infringement is intended.**

The rain drummed down on the roof of the taxi, streaming down the windshield in rivulets, obscuring Hotch's first view of inner city Paris. He craned his neck as the taxi passed the _Arc de Triomphe_ in the distance, trying to get a better look. He vaguely remembered the fact that the arch was commissioned by Napoleon to celebrate his victories, but ironically, had not been completed before he had been ousted. He couldn't recall any other facts about this significant tourist attraction despite having just read the article on it during the plane ride over.

He must be more tired than he thought. Hotch knew his memory was nowhere near Reid's eidetic one, but his recall was usually more than sufficient for his needs. In fact, he had not even had to study that hard for his bar exam as a result of his excellent memory.

_You mean your once excellent memory_, he reminded himself. The bar exam was almost two decades ago now. Tiredness was just an excuse, really. He was getting old. Hotch sighed, leaning back against the headrest. Some days the thought even crossed his mind that maybe he should take early retirement. It wasn't just physical or mental exhaustion he was experiencing. He was now constantly feeling this heaviness in his chest that was draining any energy he had left and was taking a huge toll on his performance at work.

It had started with Emily's death eight months ago. The initial shock and horror the whole team had felt when JJ had told them that Emily had not survived her injuries had, for Hotch, slowly morphed into anger; anger that he had been powerless to protect her. His team was not just his colleagues, or even just friends, they were his family. He had failed to protect a member of his family. She was his responsibility, his alone and he had done nothing.

His failure cut into him like the tip of a dull knife, no longer searing and intense, but painful nonetheless, over time coalescing into a heavy mass that, lately, seemed to weigh him down all the time. Even when he was hanging out with Jack it remained present when, in the past, Jack had always managed to dissipate whatever demons he felt haunting him, remnants of the cases he had been involved in.

It was funny. While she was alive, she had always been Prentiss to him, but since her death he could only ever think of her as Emily. Emily had not just been a gifted profiler and a valuable member of their team. She had been the life and soul of their little family. She was Derek's confidante, Garcia's closest girlfriend after JJ, Reid's sister and Dave's daughter. She had a light in her that was indescribable, warming all those who came in contact with her. Children especially seemed to sense it immediately, which was why she was always his first choice for contact with a child, whether it was for comfort or for the purpose of interviews.

Before Emily's death, Hotch never would have thought he would miss her this much. Oh, he knew everyone in the team missed her, but he had not realized how much he depended on her opinion, not just her analysis about an unsub's profile. He would frequently ask for her thoughts about things like whether Reid would be suitable for a particular task, how he should bring something up with their section chief or what he should get Jack for his birthday.

In fact, thinking back, he had depended heavily on Emily's help regarding his relationship with Jack and the issue of being an almost absentee father. Jack looked forward to her rare visits with almost the same level of anticipation as Christmas, which embarrassed Hotch. He knew that she would have been happy to visit much more often, but was sensitive to the fact that, as it was, Hotch had little time with Jack and she did not want to intrude on their precious father-son time.

He was suddenly jolted out of his reverie by the taxi driver.

"Monsieur, zis ees the 'otel Sofitel de Fauvant. Ve had arrived, if you pleeze."

"Yes, of course." Hotch gave the taxi driver his Bureau charge card and waited for the payment to go through before collecting his luggage and walking into the hotel.

He glanced around the foyer as he waited to check in. The hotel was much more luxurious than what he was usually accustomed to. Even without the recent budget cuts, the Bureau would never have put an agent up in a five star hotel. He and his team should really be "frequent stayer" members of Motel 6, seeing they stayed in the motel whenever it was available in the location they were called to for assistance in an investigation.

He was only staying here because the _Police Nationale_, one of the three national law enforcement agencies in France, had invited him, all expenses paid, to make a presentation at their annual conference of complex criminal cases. Section Chief Strauss had been happy to give him leave to attend. Not only did the FBI not need to expend any money, it was always beneficial to maintain good relations with international law agencies. You never know when you need a favour, was what she said to him before he left.

Dave persuaded him to take an extra two days off after the conference, having noticed the state of mental and emotional exhaustion he was in. Hotch had initially said no to the idea. He hated asking Jessica to babysit Jack more than necessary. She was still young and should have a life, not be tied down with taking care of his son especially when he was technically available. And there was the ever present guilt as a parent that he should be with his son every spare minute he had. He had only relented when Garcia and JJ said that they would be more than happy to take turns babysitting Jack for the weekend.

After checking in, Hotch decided he would take a shower to refresh himself after the eight hour flight from Washington DC and stepped into one of the four elevators in the lobby. He watched as the number of the floors in the elevator slowly ticked over as it approached the eighteenth floor. He was hoping to do some sightseeing before dinner. The conference was not scheduled to begin until 2 p.m. the next day and his presentation was not due until the following morning, so he still had plenty of time to revise his notes.

Hotch had planned to attend the conference in its entirety for the sake of politeness, despite the fact that his level of comprehension of French was pretty much limited to "please", "thank you", "how are you" and "how much". Why didn't he think of bringing Emily along to translate? The male members of the French police and gendarmerie would have been completely enchanted by her. It took a split second before he realised what he had been thinking. Hotch closed his eyes briefly at the surge of almost physical pain at the reminder of the loss.

He shook his head as if the motion would dispel his thoughts of Emily. As he walked down the corridor to his room, he wondered why he was suddenly thinking about her so much; perhaps the fact that he was in Paris and she had spent many summers in France visiting her grandfather. Who knew what strange connections his brain was making at the moment, linking Emily to his current experiences?

Even though her death had affected him deeply, too deeply, he had worked hard to put all thoughts of her out of his mind and to be honest, it hadn't been hard. There were always the all consuming cases, the consultations, the paperwork and, when he was home, Jack. He couldn't afford to think or feel too much. So he pushed all his feelings into 'the box', where everything else went which he didn't want or couldn't deal with. A box that had existed since he was four, the first time his stepfather had... No, he wouldn't go there, not now, not ever. He checked the number of the room on his left, relieved to see that he had, at last, reached his room.

Hotch opened the door to his room and raised his eyebrows in surprise when he realized that the free upgrade he had been given when he checked in meant that he was actually going to be staying in a suite. The sitting room more than lived up to his expectations, plush cream carpet, an antique writing desk in the corner next to the window with a red and gold couch in another corner. The duvet on the bed in the next room was an arresting red velour, the gold trim around the edges picking up the gold in the wallpaper and the gold accents in the cream curtains. The bathroom was completely modern though, with marbled floor and counters, a spa bath large enough for two and a separate shower stall with a rainwater shower head which he thoroughly enjoyed; more than enjoyed actually, revelled in, for ten whole minutes. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken more than two minutes in the shower. But then again, he was nothing if not efficient.

Hotch knew exactly where he planned to go upon stepping out of the hotel. He had used part of the time on the flight over looking at a map which Reid had printed out for him, outlining the route he should take to see some of the significant tourist spots. Reid had also helpfully marked on the map a handful of bistros and restaurants nearby so that Hotch would have a chance to experience "every day French cuisine" as Reid put it, after which he gave a spiel about how it was that the French had surprisingly low cholesterol levels and much lower incidences of heart attacks than the US population. Hotch had to stop him when his discourse moved onto his analysis of "French Women Don't Get Fat" by Mirielle Guiliano. Actually, Hotch was surprised that Reid had even read the book, seeing as the last book he read was titled "American Empire: Roosevelt's Geographer and the Prelude to Globalization".

It was almost dusk when Hotch finally left the magnificence of the Notre Dame Cathedral. After getting on the Metro, he decided to get off two stops before the one closest to his hotel to buy a coffee to tide him over until dinner. He walked down the main street for a few minutes, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city, and then decided to take a detour down one of the smaller streets on his left. It was an alley, really, narrow and quite dark. He almost turned back as soon as he walked in as there didn't appear to be many shops down that direction, but then decided to walk to the end of the street to see what was there.

To his pleasant surprise, the street that he came upon was well lit and quite busy with a rather large crowd. More importantly, there on the corner stood a shop that looked like a bistro. Reid had informed him that the bistros generally served most kinds of drinks, including coffee and light alcohol.

Hotch went in and walked up to the counter where an attractive young blonde girl was serving.

"_Bonjour monsieur, vous desirez?_" She gave him a smile that seemed, well, flirty. _Surely not_, thought Hotch. She was young enough to be his daughter. He cleared his throat rather nervously, hoping he wouldn't need to put her down gently, as he had absolutely no idea how to do so in French.

"Uh, _une cafe, s'il vous plait_," said Hotch, with a slight hesitation. He cringed inwardly at his atrocious accent. That sounded much better in my head than spoken out loud, he thought grimly.

Luckily, the girl didn't laugh, but simply replied, "_Ca fait trois euros cinquante._" That will be €_3.50_.

She must be used to tourists, thought Hotch with some relief as he handed over some euros. He was about to tell her to keep the change but realised he had no idea how to say it in French, so kept his mouth shut and accepted the coins she handed to him. He was even more relieved to see that she made no further attempt at smiling or giving him suggestive looks. At least that was what she seemed to be doing a bit earlier. It had been twenty years since he had dated, so what did he know, really. Give him a serial killer to interact with, anytime.

He took his coffee and stood next to the counter, wanting to take a few sips before leaving. As he did so, he glanced around, curious to see what the locals were eating. He was looking at a particularly succulent looking piece of steak at the table to his left when he felt his right arm being nudged hard. Luckily, it wasn't the one carrying the coffee, or it would definitely have spilled.

"_Oh! Pardon!_" A very apologetic feminine voice sounded next to him.

Every cell in his body froze. He felt the blood drain from his face and he swore that his heart stopped right then and there in his chest.

For the voice sounded exactly like Emily Prentiss'.

**Please review if you have a moment. I would love some feedback!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I thought it was probably a bit mean to stop where I did last chapter, so here's a bonus chapter for today. It doesn't happen exactly as you probably would have liked, but never fear, there is much more in store for my favourite duo! Thanks for betaing, REIDFANATIC. **

It felt like he had been standing there for an hour, but it was probably, in reality, more like six seconds, long enough for the woman to touch his arm to get his attention.

"_Est-ce que ça va?"_ Are you all right?

Heart thudding violently, Hotch paused before turning slowly to face her. Logically he knew it couldn't be Emily, she was dead for God's sake. And yet, something inside him was trying to convince him otherwise. Some crazy, stupid hope that perhaps there would be a miracle and when he turned around he would see her face, her large expressive dark eyes, and her smiling mouth. He set his mouth tightly and tamped down the ridiculous feeling of hope that had blossomed within him.

But then he saw her and the cup of coffee he had been holding fell to the ground, splashing hot coffee on his jeans and leather loafers. Hotch didn't even notice.

It was Emily. Sure, she had wavy honey coloured hair, green contact lenses and was dressed in an unfamiliar ensemble of a white peasant blouse and a jade green gypsy skirt, but it was Emily.

It was her turn to freeze. She had such a look of shock and disbelief on her face that it was almost comical. But there was nothing funny about the situation, nothing at all.

Hotch was completely lost for words. In fact, he felt like he had lost not only his gift of speech, but his entire brain function as well. He felt dazed and his mind was completely blank, nothing he had ever experienced before, even in the most stressful and most unimaginable of field situations. He stood there, completely impervious to the exclamations of the people sitting next to him who had seen the coffee spill onto the floor.

But his heart knew how to feel. The hope that had been secretly hiding there, unfurled into joy that spread through him without encouragement.

Hotch finally managed to will his mouth to move. "Emily, is that you?" he whispered hoarsely.

An expression he would later come to realize was joy flashed across her face, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Her face settled into a neutral expression.

"I think you mistake me for someone else. _Désolé_, I am not zis Emilee," she said with a heavy French accent. Before Hotch could utter another word, she turned and swept out of the bistro.

He stood there; staring with disbelief at the open door, then finally recovered some of his senses and took off after her. She must have started running once she was out of the bistro, for he only just caught a glimpse of her back as she disappeared down the alley he had earlier walked through.

Hotch ran after her, managing to catch up with her halfway down the alley. It wasn't that he was that much faster than her, she was still extremely fit, possibly more so, but his legs were much longer.

"Emily, stop!" He grabbed her arm hard and she jerked to a stop, breathing hard, not from exertion, but panic.

"Please let me go, you have the wrong person," she pleaded, desperately trying to pry his hand off, still trying to maintain her mistaken identity story.

Hotch held tight, refusing to let go. "Emily, stop. Stop. You know it's me, Hotch. Please look at me."

She tugged at his hand for another moment, and then finally stilled, her head downcast. Hotch stood there patiently, waiting for her to meet his eyes. It felt like an eternity before she lifted her eyes to his. He drew a sharp breath. Her eyes were brimming with tears that threatened to fall and the expression on her face went beyond sadness or despair.

"Please Hotch, we can't talk, it's too dangerous. You have to let me go. Please." Her voice trembled.

"Emily, all this time..." His head was whirling. He had to know why. Why didn't she tell him she was still alive? Was it because she didn't trust him?

"Hotch, please, I can't explain, not here." The tears that threatened finally spilled down her cheeks.

His rebellious heart leapt. "Then somewhere else? My hotel is just two blocks away, the Sofitel du Fauvant. Come meet me later, I'm in room 1823." His words came out in a rush. He was worried that Emily was a mirage that would disappear at any moment.

Emily shook her head. "No, that wasn't what I meant. I can't talk to you. It's too dangerous. I have to go." She looked down at his hand that was gripping her arm too tightly. The vague thought crossed the back of his mind that she would probably have bruises from his grip, but he didn't loosen his grip. He couldn't, wouldn't let her go. Not this unexpected miracle that was Emily.

"Please don't make me beg, Hotch. Please." She looked at him and there was such desperation in her eyes that his heart almost broke. Unwillingly he loosened his grip on her arm.

"I'm so sorry, Hotch," she whispered, "more sorry than you will ever know." She reached out and touched his cheek, the barest of touches. Even before he could register her touch, she had disappeared into the dark of the night.

**Please review if you can!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all so much for your positive reviews. I hope you are all enjoying reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Again, thanks to my beta, REIDFANATIC. I have posted two chapters for your weekend reading pleasure. And also I didn't want to leave you hanging at the end of Chapter 3 : )**

Hotch stood in front of the floor to ceiling window in his hotel room and stared out at the Paris skyline before him. At any other time he would have marvelled at the sight of the exquisite lights that lit up the boulevards and the beacon that was the Eiffel Tower in the distance. But his mind wasn't dwelling on the magnificence of the sight before him.

It was full of thoughts of Emily again. And yet, his thoughts were now completely opposite of those he had been thinking and feeling before. Before the accidental meeting all that he thought and felt was infinitely dark and unspeakably sad. Now, he was filled with amazement, shock, hope, but most of all, joy. Joy that Emily was alive. He still couldn't believe it. She was alive. He was surprised that he didn't feel any anger that she had hidden this from him, from all of them.

The fact was that they had failed to catch Ian Doyle, despite the many months of following any and all leads that came up. Hotch had spent countless nights after Jack had gone to bed going through all the information that he had to see if they had missed anything, anything at all that could lead them to something or someone who had a connection to Doyle. But nothing had panned out. It was yet another failure that had weighed him down.

He knew from their profile that if Doyle ever found out that Emily had survived, he would target Hotch's team, or worse, their family and friends in order to bring Emily out into the open. That was why Emily had left. She had not even wanted to risk staying in the States, but instead had gone to Europe. He was actually surprised that she was in Paris. It would have made more sense if she had settled down in a smaller town. On the other hand, there were more than two million people in Paris, so it would be much easier to remain anonymous in a city of this size. Her French was fluent enough that she could pass for a local and not raise any suspicion.

Hotch took a sip of his scotch, a detached part of his mind noticing the unsteadiness in his hand. After Emily had left he had found himself uncharacteristically shaken up. He wasn't quite sure how long he had stood there in the darkened alley, gazing at the spot where she had disappeared into the gloomy darkness. He had only come back to reality when a car horn had gone off in the street behind him. For once, he felt like he was unable to control the tumultuous emotions he was feeling. And he was afraid, because control was everything to him. Without it, he was simply not Aaron Hotchner.

He had walked quickly back to the hotel and when he reached his room he had immediately called room service and ordered a bottle of scotch, not caring about the cost. When it arrived a short time later, he had downed two shots very quickly, one straight after another. The alcohol was potent, especially on his empty stomach and it numbed his feelings straight away. Thank you, Johnnie Walker, Hotch had thought with relief.

What was he going to do now? He knew what he _wanted_ to do. He wanted, no, needed to look for Emily. He had to see her again. He didn't dare ask himself why. He didn't want to explore his feelings about her again. He knew full well that the alcohol was only a temporary fix. Once it wore off he would have to deal with the full impact of how he felt about seeing her.

Of course he knew that what he wanted to do was the opposite of what he should do. He should forget her. She was hiding for a reason and he had no right to put her in danger. Forget her. He bit out a grim laugh, as if that was going to happen. He might as well try to forget the fact that he had a son. It was impossible. The impact of Emily's death on him had been so powerful that it was inconceivable that he could just shrug off meeting her and finding her alive.

So, back to the first question; what now? He contemplated having a fourth shot of scotch. It wasn't going to help his thought processes, but what the hell. Back at the window with full glass in hand, he stared down at the street below. There was a family – parents and a boy and girl - walking towards to the hotel, laden with packages and laughing together. Two girls were strolling past on the other side of the street, arm in arm, chatting vivaciously. Over towards the right, standing next to a street lamp was a couple, looking like there were, somewhat appropriately, French kissing. Boy, did he envy their ordinary lives.

Hotch leant forward, letting his head hit the cold glass. _You stupid idiot, you should have gone after her instead of standing there like a moron,_ said the rational part of his brain. The irrational, or rather, emotionally-overwhelmed part of his brain said, _did you see the pain in her eyes? Of course you had to let her go. There was no choice._

"Aargh!" Hotch gritted his teeth in frustration, banging his head against the glass again. What to do? He felt a strong urge to call Dave up to ask for his advice. But he couldn't. There was no one he could talk to. Not unless he wanted to leak the fact that Emily was alive. He had complete trust in his team, but unless he spoke to them face to face, he couldn't take for granted that their cells were not being tracked. He also knew how much each of them cared for Emily and if they even felt a tenth of how he was feeling, someone, likely Morgan, might do something impulsive that could endanger the situation.

He took a deep breath and straightened up. Putting down his glass down, he stood still and willed himself to focus. If he wanted to track Emily down, where would he start? He had no idea what her name could be and he had no access to any facial recognition software unless he approached someone at the conference tomorrow. But that was extremely risky. He would have to come up with a story as to why he was trying to find her, not to mention the fact that it would more than likely put Emily in danger. If anything happened to her as a direct result of his actions, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. Not again.

Ah, of course, he shook his head. Why didn't he think of that in the first place? Damn the scotch. He could start at the bistro where he met her. It was a long shot, but it might be a place that she frequented. There was nothing to lose. He started towards the door in a rush now that he had a plan, but at the last moment checked his watch. It was almost 11 p.m. There was probably not much point going now. It was probably already closed; added to the fact that he was not exactly in the best form, physically or mentally.

He should get some much needed sleep, and then go first thing tomorrow. Hotch sighed and bent down to take his shoes off, only just noticing the coffee stains. Damn, now I need to get them cleaned, he sighed. Just as he was straightening up after removing his somewhat damp socks, he heard a quiet knock on his door.

Who could it be? With the exception of Capitaine Jean-Phillipe Marais who was his conference contact at the _Direction Centrale de la Police Judiciaire_ (Central Directorate of Judicial Police) he didn't know anyone in Paris. He felt unsettled enough after his chance meeting with Emily to walk to the bedside drawer and pull out his Glock. Holding it with his arm straight down, he walked to the door and stood to the side of the door.

The knock came again, a little louder this time.

"Who is it?" Hotch reached out to open the door, raising his gun. He didn't check the peep hole. Law enforcement officers were trained to avoid this action as there was a risk the person on the other side of the door intending to cause harm could shoot.

"Room service, monsieur," he didn't recognise the voice that was muffled through the thick door.

Hotch took a deep breath and opened the door, ready to shoot should he be required to.

But for the second time that evening, he was completely stunned at the sight that stood before him.

**Quick go to Chapter 4, then review please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Finally, the _real_ meeting...**

Emily could feel her knees trembling as she stared at Hotch's stunned expression.

_Oh God, what have I done? I should never have come here!_ She suddenly felt a spear of panic shoot through her. She looked at him, fear racing through her veins causing her muscles to tense in readiness for flight. The panic must have shown on her face, because quick as lightning, Hotch's hand reached out and caught hold of her arm.

Emily couldn't stop her sharply indrawn breath at his grip. He had grabbed her at almost the same spot on her arm that he had done earlier when she had tried to escape from him. And from the pain shooting up her arm, she knew it must be heavily bruised. To his credit, Hotch immediately let her arm go, an apologetic look crossing his face. However, before she could move, he reached down and clasped his warm hand around her cold one.

"Emily, please don't go. Come in." He pushed the door open wider, but didn't pull her in. Nor did he let go of her hand.

She stood there, heart beating quickly with panic. _Either go in or run, Emily. Don't just stand there._ Without consulting her, her feet moved on their own volition into his room.

Hotch gently led her in and stowed his Glock in the back of his jeans. He closed the door behind her, locking it and pulling the chain in place, all this time keeping her hand in his. He turned back towards her and they stood an arm's length from each other, unable to take their eyes of the other. This must be a dream, thought Emily. She could barely believe she was standing here in front of her boss. Her ex-boss, she reminded herself. She had never thought she would see him again.

Her eyes drank the sight of him in greedily. His hair was shorter than it had been when she had last seen him, she thought vaguely. But what caught her attention were the dark shadows under his eyes and the look of exhaustion on his face. He was thinner than when she had seen him last. Her heart ached. She was worried about him, even after all this time. She knew that there was no one around to really look after him. While she had been in the BAU she tried her best to watch out for him. She would often buy dinner for him when she knew that he would have to stay back late to complete the paperwork for the day. She knew whenever he was particularly affected by a case and would try her best to make sure he was okay, or at least made sure he knew that she was available if he ever needed to talk. He had only ever taken her up on the offer once and it had necessitated her going back to his place so that he could put Jack to bed first. It was the night where she had first felt like he had finally seen her as a friend.

"Emily..." She stayed completely still when Hotch murmured her name softly. Barely daring to breathe and not knowing why, she watched as his hand reached towards her and cupped her cheek.

"I can't believe you're standing here in front of me," he whispered hoarsely.

Emily's breath hitched in her throat and she felt tears prickling in her eyes. The man, whom she had always thought of as having the most stoic and unfathomable face in history, was openly showing what he was feeling. There was disbelief and … it couldn't be, could it, joy? She stared in amazement as his jaw worked uncontrollably and he tried to contain his emotions. She couldn't bear the look on his face any longer and unable to stop herself, she stepped forward and slipped her arms around waist, hugging him tight.

She felt him freeze. But it was only for a split second. His arms came around her holding her close to him. His left hand came up and cradled her head which was lying on his chest, stroking her hair gently. She breathed in the familiar smell of his lemony aftershave. Being in Hotch's arms was better than coming home. She could almost pretend that the last eight months had never happened. That everything was normal. Not that it was normal being held in Hotch's arms. But it felt so natural...so right... like they were two halves of a whole. She shook her head at the cliché that had popped into her head.

"What is it, Emily?" Hotch pulled back slightly to look down at her questioningly.

She felt a thrill of happiness run through her when she noticed that his arms remained around her. Apparently he was as loathed to release him as she was him.

"Nothing," embarrassed, she tried to deflect his question. "I just had a silly thought, that's all."

"Tell me anyway." His brown eyes looked so intently into hers that she couldn't help answering him.

"I was just thinking how good it feels when you're holding me." Emily didn't know why her voice had dropped to a whisper. She tried to smile. "See, I told you it was silly."

Although his face was set in its usual stern lines, Hotch's eyes never left hers. "Then I guess I'm having the same silly thought," he said softly.

Emily opened her mouth to reply, but no words emerged. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying? Never, ever, in her wildest fantasies did she imagine she would ever share a tender moment with this man who was now holding her in his arms. She had only ever seen him as her superior and then as a friend. She wouldn't even have called him a close friend, Hotch having built barriers stronger than a thousand Great Walls to keep people at arms' length, including the members of his team.

Sure there had been a couple of instances where she had felt a crush coming on, assisted no doubt by their close proximity at work and the sheer amount of time they spent together. But she had always quickly nipped it in the bud by reminding herself that it would never amount to anything as it was inconceivable that Hotch would ever reciprocate those sorts of feelings. So she had put it out of her mind and focused on her work. But now, looking at the soft, almost tender expression on his face, she wished she had taken the chance, because now it was too late; too late for her; too late for them. She closed her eyes briefly, knowing what she had to do.

"Hotch..." she started to tell him that it was a mistake for her to be here, that she had to go. But before she could say anything more, his lips were on hers.

**This is one of my favourite chapters. Reviews pretty please! I promise I will post quicker if you give me encouragement ; P**


	5. Chapter 5

**_That_ kiss and more kisses...  
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_What the hell are you doing?_ The rational voice in his head was yelling, loudly! _ Are you crazy? This is Emily you're kissing! This is a bad idea, really bad._ Hotch ignored the voice that he had always listened to without fail in the past.

Because, his lips were touching surely the softest lips in the world. He'd had absolutely no plan to kiss her. It just happened. One second he was staring at her lips murmuring his name, the next, his lips were on the object of his rapt attention. Or maybe it was the object of his desire. All he knew what that she tasted of peaches, and of Emily. To his overwhelming relief she hadn't tried to pull away. In fact, all she did was emit a soft sigh and tilted her head slightly to fit their lips more perfectly together.

The kiss was gentle at first. His lips moved softly over hers as he cupped her jaw with one hand while drawing her body flush against his torso with his other arm. He felt her hands stroke his back, holding him close to her and he deepened his kiss. His mouth pressed more urgently over hers, coaxing her to open her mouth. Their tongues touched and he felt Emily shiver as he ran his tongue lightly on the inside of her sensitive bottom lip.

Before he knew it they were kissing as if their very lives depended on it. But he needed more. Hotch reached down and without breaking contact with her mouth, lifted her up by the waist. Emily accommodatingly lifted her jeans-clad legs around his waist and he walked to the bed. It was only when he lay her down did their lips finally separate, reluctantly. Hotch stood bent over her, holding himself up on his arms which were on either side of her head. They stared at each other, breathing rapidly.

Hotch took in her slightly dilated pupils and her invitingly swollen lips. He leaned down to kiss her again but then paused. It was going to kill him to say what he was about to say, but he had to ask. He had to give her a chance to back out.

"Emily, are you sure?" Her eyes which had fluttered shut shot open again in surprise.

Hotch held his breath, praying like he had never prayed in his life. _Please say yes, please, please, please._

She opened her mouth to answer, and then stopped. She swallowed hard. "Yes, I'm sure." Hotch looked deep into her eyes and saw that she was telling the truth.

"Thank God," he breathed, lowering his head in relief. He jerked it up at the sound of her giggle.

"What?" he asked, lifting one eyebrow. There was nothing funny about the situation that he could see.

"Oh, nothing, I just didn't think you were the praying type," Emily said with a grin. Her bright smile made something jerk hard in his chest. He didn't want to consider what it was that he was feeling. _It's just because you haven't seen her smile in a long time, that's all it is, _he tried to persuade himself.

"I'm going to let that one go for now." Hotch tried his best to put on his I am SSA Hotchner, bad-ass Unit Chief face, but he failed miserably when Emily burst out into laughter. Great, he thought, now the mood was going to disappear and then so will she. _Good job, Slick._ He started to straighten up.

To his surprise, Emily put her hands on his face and pulled him down towards her, making him fall to his elbows. She stopped laughing, but a smile still lingered on her face. "Hey, I wasn't laughing at you." At his look of disbelief she tried to smother another laugh. "Okay, okay, I was laughing at you a little. But I was really laughing because I never realised how much I missed that look on your face. Oh Hotch," she stopped, her face suddenly serious. "I've missed you so much."

He felt his chest tighten at her words and the sudden look of vulnerability that had appeared on her face when she realised what she had just said. "I've missed you too," he admitted, embarrassed to hear the hoarseness in his voice from the emotions that were coursing through him.

"Really?" she whispered; hope darkening her dark eyes to midnight black. Thank God she wasn't wearing her contact lenses because he loved her eyes.

"Really." At those words their lips met again. Hotch groaned into her mouth as their tongues tangled together and their lips pressed feverishly against each other. Emily twined her long legs around his hips pressing upward against his groin, emitting a moan when she rubbed against his hardness.

Without breaking their kiss, she tugged his shirt out of his jeans but he felt it getting snagged at the back. What the... Hotch suddenly remembered what it was. Damn. He quickly pushed himself up off the bed, unentwining Emily's legs.

"What's wrong?" Emily sat up, a look of concern on her face.

Hotch reached behind him and pulled out his gun. He clicked the safety back on and quickly slid it into the bedside drawer where he had stored it earlier. He looked up to see Emily grinning yet again.

"The safety was off? Tsk tsk," she said teasingly, shaking her head. "Why, Unit Chief, that was extremely irresponsible of you. You could have caused a major accident." She squealed and scrambled to the middle of the king-sized bed when he stepped forward threateningly. Emily was laughing uncontrollably, but her laughter slowly died down when she watched him unbuttoning his shirt.

Hotch had already removed his shirt when he belatedly remembered that the scars on his ribs and stomach were fully illuminated by the overhead light. He quickly reached over and switched the light off, leaving the soft glow of the lamps on the bedside table. As he was about to turn those off as well, a hand stopped him. Swallowing hard, he slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers.

"You don't have to hide them from me," she said softly. He watched, motionless as she reached forward and gently kissed the scars from the wounds Foyet had inflicted. With each kiss he felt the darkness in his soul recede more and more. Emotions threatened to overcome him at the tenderness in her kisses. Because now all he could think of was he was too late. It was all too late.

**Thanks so much to those who took the time to review, it has really warmed my heart. Keep reviewing please. Next chapter will be hot, hot, hot!**


	6. Chapter 6

**As promised! Please note heavy M rating - explicit scene.  
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But all thoughts fled when he felt her unfasten his belt and jeans. He looked down at her as she pushed his boxers down and heard her hushed gasp.

Then it was his turn to gasp as she curled her hand around his rock hard erection. He had been hard since the second after their lips had first met.

Hotch groaned harshly when Emily placed the tip of him into her warm, wet mouth. His hands reached down reflexively to hold her shoulders. She sucked him as her hand stroked the bottom half of him, up and down, again and again. Then she paused and swirled her tongue around the tip. She repeated the sucking and stroking, faster and faster. Before he could open his mouth to warn her, his hips jerked hard and he spilt into her mouth, twice, three times.

He shuddered as she gently pulled her mouth away from him and sat back on her heels on the bed. He looked away, moistening his dry lips, trying to gather some composure, any composure, before he spoke. He couldn't believe he had blown his load like a schoolboy. "I'm so sorry, Emily," he said, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to...it's just that...it's been a long time," he stammered, feeling more and more like sinking through the floor.

"What are you sorry for?" He finally turned to look at Emily when she spoke. Her eyes were shining with an emotion that he couldn't decipher. She gave him a luminous smile. God, she was beautiful; all through, inside and out. "I thought it was amazing. _You_ are amazing."

Hotch shook his head in disbelief. She thought he was amazing, when he had done nothing, except take his own pleasure. "Emily," he ventured, finally pulling himself together, "_you_ are the amazing one." He looked at her, intensity burning his eyes. "I have no idea what I've done to deserve you, but I'm going to do everything I can to please you." He kicked off his jeans and jocks and then reached over to lift her top over her head.

"Wait." Before he could stop her, Emily leaned across and switched off the bedside lamps. Hotch hesitated for an instant, and then continued removing her top and bra. He desperately wanted to do the same to her as she had done to him, kissing all the ugly scars and memories away, but he didn't want to push her right now, so he let it go. He was glad he hadn't drawn the curtains, as there was just enough light coming in from the window for him to see her alabaster skin.

When he had finally removed all her clothes, he slid down the bed gently pushing her legs apart, started kissing her inner right thigh from her knee upwards. He heard her moaning her encouragement when he reached the apex of her thighs but he ignored her, again bending further down and repeating his kisses with her left thigh. Just when he reached the top of her thigh, he suddenly felt her hand grab his hair and pull him upwards, making him burst into laughter.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Hotch lifted his face to look at Emily. By now his eyes had adjusted to the dark. She looked frustrated. Frustrated and annoyed. He smiled. "I thought I was the control freak," he teased. He didn't know where this teasing tone had come from, he didn't even know he possessed one, but she was just so...adorable. Hmm, he was also pretty sure he had never used that word before to describe anyone, even a child.

"Hotch, if you're not going to do something about it, I will," she said through gritted teeth.

Hotch's smile widened into a grin, another first. Well, a first in a long time. "I think you should call me Aaron, seeing as I'm about to..." He winked at her. His mouth was upon her before she could form a reply and he heard her gasp when he gently licked her clit. While his tongue paid homage to the sensitive bundle of nerves, he used a finger to lightly stroke the entrance to her vagina. Emily's thighs jerked in response and he reached around the lift them over his shoulders. He was absurdly pleased to find that she was already wet enough so that he could easily slide a finger into her. After a few moments he quickened the movement of his tongue and then pushed two fingers into her more roughly than he had previously.

Emily gave a muffled scream, pushing her hips against his fingers and mouth. Hotch would have smiled if his tongue hadn't been busily flicking her clit with lightning fast strikes. He thrust his fingers in and out strongly and deftly. Her panting moans echoed through the room and when she climaxed a moment later, she screamed his name, his _given_ name. It was the sexiest sound he had ever heard. Her thighs clamped tight around his head, forcing him to stop moving.

After a few seconds, Hotch felt her thighs move away from his head, trembling with the effort. He lifted his head and swiped away her juices from his chin with the back of his hand, then moved up the bed and drew her into his arms. Emily was still trembling from the intensity of her climax and she rested her head on his chest, sliding her arm around his waist.

"That was incredibly, indescribably awesome," she said drowsily sometime later.

The corner of his mouth hitched up in a smile. That was Emily, never lost for words, while the only adjective that came to his mind was pretty much 'wow'. "Yeah," he murmured, kissing her hair, "for me too."

"I'm sooo sleepy." She sighed in contentment, snuggling closer.

"Go to sleep, then. I'm right here." Hotch tightened his arm around her, kissing the top of her head again. He couldn't seem to stop kissing or holding her.

"G'night Hotch."

That didn't last long, he thought, unable to prevent another small smile from escaping. "Goodnight Prentiss."

**More scorching action still to come (but not immediately). Let me know what you think.  
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	7. Chapter 7

**Some conversation...**

Emily jolted awake with a gasp. _Where am I?_ She thought, looking around in panic, trying to get her bearings. She was definitely not in her own apartment. And she couldn't move. It was only then she felt the arm around her waist. She stiffened in alarm. _What have I done? _ The warm body behind her shifted and the bedside light came on. She blinked in the sudden brightness.

"Emily, are you all right?" At the sound of Hotch's voice, the panic and adrenalin that had started to pump through her veins suddenly dissipated and she slumped in relief before turning around to look at him.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily with his hand and there was such a look of concern on his face that she felt her insides melt. Unable to help herself, she scooted up and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. Shooting him a smile, she said, "I'm fine. Just a bad dream, that's all."

He sat up and propped her up on the pillow next to him, drawing the top sheet up to cover her. Just that simple gesture tugged at her heartstrings. He was so thoughtful and caring. She knew that he had done it without even thinking about it.

He looked at her, silent for a moment. "It's not just a normal bad dream is it?" His eyes softened when he saw the answer in her eyes. "Are you ready to tell me what happened after we saw you last?"

She bit her lip, unsure where to start, but she knew he deserved an explanation. "You know that I have total faith in your abilities, right?" she asked softly.

When he nodded, she continued. "Well, I need you to understand that everything I did was to protect all of you and those you loved. I know Doyle inside out; how he thinks, what he would do to get to me, the lengths he would go. I had discussed with my contact in the State Department what needed to be done if I failed and Doyle lived. We agreed that my death would be the best way to protect everyone I was close to.

So when I failed to take him out, I couldn't risk him taking any of you to ransom to force me to reveal the whereabouts of his son. I was told later that one of the SWAT team was a CIA operative who had orders to shoot me had I survived Doyle's treatment. So even if Doyle hadn't stabbed me something else would have been done so that I could leave and keep all of you safe." Her eyes pleaded for his understanding. "You're not angry with me are you?"

He sighed heavily, "No, of course not. I'm just disappointed that you didn't trust us enough to help you. You are part of our family, Emily; we would have done anything to keep you safe."

"I do know," she replied empathically, which is why I knew I couldn't risk any of you putting yourselves in danger. My heart was in my throat the whole time we were investigating the murders that Doyle carried out. Derek was even shot at. If anything had happened to any of you, I would not have forgiven myself."

"All right, I understand what you're saying but it's still going to take me a while to process all this." He smiled ruefully. "In fact I still haven't quite processed that fact that I gave into my impulse and kissed you in the first place. I have no idea what came over me."

She returned his smile. "I don't know what it was but I'm glad you kissed me. And I'm really glad we have this time together." But she knew this would be all they would have; nothing more. Her sadness must have shown in her eyes because his brows drew together into his usual Hotch-like frown.

"What's wrong?"

Her first instinct was to lie to him, hide her vulnerability, her feelings. But she realized that time was short. She had already missed her chance once, she didn't want to waste any more and have more regrets later.

Still, she bit her lip uncertainly. "I was just thinking that this is all we're going to ever be able to have. I shouldn't even be here, Hotch. I'm putting you in danger, not just you, the whole team."

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "This is not all that we're going to have. Because I swear to you, Emily, even if it takes me the rest of my life, I will get him and then you can come home." His eyes burnt with an intensity she had never seen before, not even when they were hunting the worst serial paedophile they had ever come across last year.

Her breath caught in her throat at his words. "Hotch, that was amazingly sweet, but the reality is if Doyle doesn't want to be caught, our chances of catching him are practically nil. And I don't want you to spend your life trying to catch him on top of your work. You just can't do it." A thought struck her. "Is that what you've been doing? Working on catching Doyle outside of work hours?"

Hotch didn't reply but she saw the answer in his eyes and the hard set to his mouth. That explained the weight loss and the exhaustion. "Oh Hotch, you have to stop. Promise me you will. You need to take care of yourself and Jack." Even the mention of Jack did not soften the unforgiving hardness in his expression.

"I've just found you, Emily, when I never thought I would see you again and you want me to give you up, just like that?"

Her heart ached and pressed his calloused hand to her cheek. "I don't think we have a choice, Hotch. I can't come home with you and you can't stay here with me."

He closed his eyes briefly, a look of pain flashing across his face. When he opened them again, all he said was, "I know. But I don't want the thought of the future to spoil the time we have. So how about we just enjoy each other's company for now." He reached for her and before she could utter a protest, lifted her over on top of him so that she straddled his hips. He drew her down for a deep, drawn out kiss. When they finally broke off to take in some deep breaths, Emily felt compelled to say, "I should go, Hotch."

**I'd love to hear what you think. What do you think happens next? *wink***


	8. Chapter 8

**And here's more between-the-sheets action. M rating!**

"Aaron," he corrected her before kissing her again. By the time that passionate kiss ended, Emily was moaning into his mouth and grinding her hips into his extremely impressive sheet covered erection. She never dreamt that he would be so well endowed, even in that one x-rated dream she had had of him one night over a year ago. It was so explicit that she still remembered every single detail when she woke up the next morning. It took a week before she could even bring herself to meet his eyes at work without blushing.

She knew the exact moment he noticed the one inch wide scar on her upper chest. His eyes darkened in pain and he touched it, so gentle that she could barely feel his fingertips. She felt her heart clench at the fact that he didn't say anything despite knowing that he must have questions. She took a deep breath and hoped her voice wouldn't shake.

"When Doyle captured me, he branded me with a four-leaf clover so I'd never forget him." Emily closed her eyes so she didn't have to see the anger she knew would be on his face, or worse, the pity. "I asked the doctors to cut it out. I didn't even care how ugly it would look, any scar would be better than the brand. But I was lucky, there was a plastic surgeon on duty at the time and he used a new technique to lessen the scarring, both there and where Doyle stabbed me." Her eyes fluttered open when she felt Hotch shift beneath her.

She gazed down at his dark head as he leaned over and kissed first the scar on her tummy and then the scar on her chest. He finally looked up at her, his eyes burning with more intensity than she had ever before seen. "Emily, I may not be able to take away the pain or the memory of what you suffered, but I promise you this. I swear on my life that he will never again get the chance to hurt you. And I don't care what I have to do to keep this promise. Do you believe me when I say this to you?"

She looked at the complete conviction on his hard face. "Yes," she whispered.

"Good."

They stared at each other for an infinite moment. Emily suddenly felt a desperate need to feel Hotch inside her, physically, because she could already feel him inside her heart and her soul. So she slid her hands up his chest and bent down to trail a line of kisses down the middle of his torso. Hotch grunted when she lightly scratched his nipples with her nails. Before she could move further down than his waist, he flipped her over onto her back, kicking away the sheet that had been caught between them. He cupped her full breasts in his large hands and caught a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. Emily slipped her hands through his hair, holding him close to her, breathing rapidly through her mouth.

When he reached down to check her readiness, his hard fingertips brushed against her clit. The surge of sensation was electrifying and she arched against his hand as his mouth moved to her other nipple and ran his tongue round and round the aureole. She felt him sigh with satisfaction when he dipped his middle finger into her and found that she was almost dripping, she was so aroused and ready for him. She moaned as he added another finger and started to slide them in and out of her.

"Don't stop." She whimpered as he curled his fingers, raking her g-spot at each outward movement. The tension coiled tighter and tighter low in her stomach and she finally exploded, crying out loud.

Hotch moved up over her and positioned his hard member at her soft opening. He started pushing in slowly and gently, but even so, Emily stiffened in pain. She reflexively put her hands on his shoulders to stop him.

"Emily? Are you all right? Tell me if you want me to stop." He looked down at her anxiously.

She held her breath for a moment and tried to relax. After a second or two she felt her inner muscles soften and become more pliable. The pain that was threatening faded away and it was only then she really looked at his face. Sweat beaded his brow and his jaw was clenched with the supreme effort of holding still when everything in him would have wanted to thrust into her and not stop until he came. But his incredibly strong will was holding him back so that he wouldn't hurt her. And she knew that if she had told him to stop, he would have, even if it killed him.

"I'm fine," she caught his face between her hands and reached up to kiss him. "It's just been a long time for me and you're rather...large."

"I'm sorry," Hotch gritted out, arms starting to tremble from the tension of holding himself up.

"Don't be," she breathed before sliding her legs up and curling them behind his lower back. She pushed her hips up and took him further inside, breathing an inner sigh of relief when there was no pain or soreness.

Hotch froze for a second and then he exploded into action. He plunged the rest of the way into her and she felt her inner walls stretch tight to fit around him. The almost pain was fused with the sensation of his immense rod rubbing the spot within her that had never before been manipulated during intercourse. His hips moved powerfully between her legs, thrusting deep into her and then withdrawing.

Hazel brown eyes and dark brown locked together and neither blinked as Hotch's thrusts grew shorter and faster. The only sound in the room was the sound of his hips slamming against hers and their synchronised panting. The sensations Emily was experiencing were so intense that she was almost afraid of reaching the crest of the wave she was riding.

And then it hit her. Her eyelids fell shut and she moaned aloud. "Ahhh... Aaron, Aaron, don't stop. Ohhhh..." She trembled violently as an incredible climax racked her helpless body.

"Emily!" she heard him growl deep in his chest as he jetted his release into her. It seemed to her that their orgasms continued for a long time. Hotch collapsed, having it seemed, enough of a presence of mind to drop to one side so that he was only partially lying on her. When their racing hearts finally started to slow down, he made a move to get off her, but Emily stopped him, putting her arms around him.

She felt his eyes upon her and turned to look at him. A question hovered in his eyes.

"I don't want you to leave me." She wanted to keep him inside her for as long as she could have him.

His face softened. Without breaking contact with her body, he slipped his arms under her and flipped over. She wasn't even sure how he managed to do it without slipping out; they were both so slippery from their combined juices.

Emily closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest as Hotch drew the duvet over them.

"Goodnight, Emily," he murmured.

"Goodnight, Aaron."

**Reviews please?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks so much everyone for your reviews, I am trying to reply to each one of you personally. I am really glad to hear you are enjoying the story so far. This chapter is a mostly lighthearted affair for a bit of a change. Please read and review. Thanks so much for betaing, REIDFANATIC.  
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The first rays of sunlight streamed in through the curtains, waking Hotch from his sleep. He blinked sleepily at his watch. It was almost 9 a.m., plenty of time before his scheduled lunch meeting with Capitaine Marais. It took a moment before he realized that pressed up against his right side was the unfamiliar warmth of a body. In that instant, images of the night before flashed before his eyes like an old home movie screening from a projector.

And they were all of Emily. He turned his head, afraid that last night had all been a dream as a result of his exhaustion. No, she was still there, sleeping so peacefully. He lifted his hand and smoothed her wavy honey coloured hair from her face. She stirred, and then snuggled more deeply into her pillow. Hotch couldn't take his eyes off her face. She was beautiful, her alabaster skin slightly flushed from sleep, her long black eyelashes resting on her cheeks like little fans. Her lips were red and slightly swollen from their extended kissing sessions the previous night. He couldn't help himself, gently touching her bottom lip which was pouting slightly in slumber.

Emily stirred, slowly opening her eyes. When she saw him looking down at her, she gave him a sleepy smile, happiness lighting her face. Hotch felt his chest tighten with emotion as he stared down at her. God only knew how he looked to her. He probably looked like some love struck idiot wearing a sappy smile. _Pull yourself together, Hotch._ He tried to wipe the smile off his face, not wanting to look like a complete fool.

"Good morning," he murmured, bending down to give her a kiss.

He had meant the kiss to be a brief good morning kiss, but unsurprisingly it deepened, their tongues meeting and he felt her arms come up and curl around his neck.

"Mmm..." she smiled at him when they pulled apart a little to look at each other. "That was the nicest good morning greeting I've had in a long time." She paused, "Actually, the nicest ever."

Hotch lifted his eyebrow. "I'd probably have believed you if you hadn't said the exact same thing when I woke you at five and then at seven."

She flashed him a glimpse of her straight white teeth. "Oh yeah," she said unrepentantly. "That's right, how could I forget how you "woke" me up those times. This kiss still rates up there, though, despite not having the excitement factor. But if you want, we can repeat those performances. I'm keen if you are." She winked at him, giving him a very wicked smile. She stroked the hair at his temple tenderly and he turned his head to press a kiss into her palm.

"Any repeat of those performances right now will very likely kill me," he uttered, falling back against the pillows. "I don't even know how I managed to do it that many times. I'm not exactly what you would call a young stallion."

"Maybe not, but you're just as well hung."

Hotch's mouth actually dropped open at the reply. He twisted his head and saw the mischievous look on her face. He was speechless for a moment or two. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Well, it's true and I think it would be fair to say that I'm the luckiest girl in Paris. Although..." Emily winced a little as she sat up, "maybe you're right, we may have overdone it a little."

Hotch got out of bed. "Stay there, I'm going to run you a hot bath."

"For me? What about you?" she called out as he disappeared into the bathroom.

"I'm going to have a shower and then order us some breakfast. I didn't have dinner last night and I'm starving. We must have burnt at least a thousand calories last night." He came back into the room, surprised that he didn't feel self-conscious about the scars that he wore on his body. "I need sustenance or I'm going to end up looking like that dried up body in that Seven movie with Brad Pitt. You're sucking all the life out of me." He bent down and started picking up the clothes that were strewn on the floor next to the bed.

Emily was staring at him in amazement. "I seriously don't know what part of your statement I should address first; the fact that you actually watched a movie or the fact that you just made a dirty joke."

Hotch's brows drew together. "What joke?" He was confused. _What did he say? Oh._ He silently cursed the flush that he could feel warming his cheeks. The last time he remembered blushing was when he had been fifteen. "That wasn't meant to be a dirty joke. I just meant you're draining me of energy." He was about to expand on his explanation until he saw the teasing glint in her eyes. "I can't believe I fell for that. And for your information, I do too watch movies." He thought he had injected the exact amount of indignation in his tone.

"Oh yeah?" she challenged. "What was the last one you saw?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but couldn't remember what it was. It had been a long time, really long time; probably circa 2008. "I can't remember, but I watch a lots of kids shows with Jack," he said defensively. _Wow, that was way lame. And you call yourself an ex-prosecutor._

"You know that doesn't count."

Hotch's eyes narrowed when he saw her give him a fake look of pity.

"Ok, I admit it; I haven't watched a movie in a long time. In my defence I don't exactly have a lot of spare time on my hands." He watched Emily's smile dim. Damn, why did he say that? He gave himself a mental kick. He had sworn not to bring the subject of Doyle up until Emily was ready.

But she brightened up again in the next second. "Well, maybe we can watch some movies in between our more strenuous activities so you can rest your old bones."

Hotch paused in the act of folding her jeans. Joy flared through him and he ignored the 'old' comment. "You're going to stay with me for the next few days? Here?" He looked at her, trying not to look too hopeful.

She bit her lip. "I know I shouldn't, but," she shrugged "you only live once, right?" This was the Emily he knew and lo... He cut the thought off with brutal force. No, there was no way he was following through with that train of thought.

Emily was still speaking. "And you almost never get second chances. I'm not going to waste this chance to be with you. You mean too much to me."

She got out of bed and walked into his arms. They held each other tightly for a long while. Hotch could feel his heart pounding from the effect of words she had just uttered. He pulled back and looked down at the woman that already meant so much to him that he was afraid that when the time came he wouldn't be able to let her go. He forced his mouth to form a semblance of a smile, knowing that his usual grim countenance had crept back onto his face at the thought of parting with Emily. "Come on, the bath should be ready, hop in."

"Thanks for running the bath," she said, looking up at him. "Now that I'm out of bed I've realized how much I need it. And that's aside from the recuperative properties of hot water."

At his questioning look she explained, "Two words, bodily fluids."

Understanding dawned. Then, _OH MY GOD_. "Shit! Emily! We didn't use any protection." What the hell had he done?

"Hotch, it's ok." She quickly put her hand on his chest. Hotch knew she could feel his now racing heart. "I'm on the pill. And it's been a long time since I last, you know," she said softly. "So I'm healthy."

Hotch closed his eyes briefly in relief. "I'm so sorry, Emily. It never even crossed my mind; it's been such a long time since I've had to think about this sort of thing. I haven't dated since the divorce. But that's still no excuse."

"Well, I forgot to bring it up too, so it's not completely your fault. We're okay." She put her other hand on his face, trying to reassure him.

His pulse finally back to normal, Hotch said, "How about you have your bath while I get us some breakfast and then we can see what movies are on."

"Yesss!" Emily's change of mood was immediate at his mention of movies. She punched both fists triumphantly up into the air. "I've finally had my wicked way with Supervisory Special Agent Incorruptible Hotchner and am on the way to further corrupting him in other ways. Bring it on!"

Hotch shook his head as he followed her into the bathroom. Where was the composed, always professional agent he once worked with? He had never seen her like this out of work hours and if this was who she really was how did he miss that? More importantly, what had he gotten himself into? It was only then he realized he had a stupid grin on his face.

**I hoped you liked this chapter. I'd love a review if you have a moment. Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

**More banter and some fluff...**

After having a substantial breakfast of bacon and eggs (him) and French toast with strawberry sauce (her), plus three cups of coffee each, they went through the movie menu and settled on watching The King's Speech which Hotch told her he thoroughly enjoyed.

"Okay, what next?" Emily scrolled through the list of movies. "Oh, look, it's a Justin Bieber movie."

"A what movie?" Hotch walked back into the room after his 'comfort' break.

"A who movie," she corrected him, "Justin Bieber." Hotch looked nonplussed. She rolled her eyes, "Teen sensation, 17 years old, ring any bells?" Not a flicker of recognition on his face. Damn he was gorgeous. She sighed. "Don't worry." She pressed select on the remote.

"Prentiss, stop."

Emily raised her eyebrows at him, noticing the familiar furrowed brow, I-am-not-impressed look, which Hotch held the patent on, was back on his face. Uh oh, "Prentiss?" she ventured.

He glanced at her face. "Sorry, let me rephrase. Emily, stop."

Ah, she knew what was going to happen next. She tried to look innocent, "Yes, Ho-Aaron?" It was taking a while, but she was very slowly starting to get used to calling him by his first name. She could tell that it pleased him even though he said nothing and hadn't asked her again after the second time. Besides, she didn't want it to be the 'orgasm' name, although that certainly had possibilities. Oh, what fun she could have had if she was still in his team.

"Please tell me you are not about to watch Justin Bieber."

"No, I'm not." She paused for effect. "We are." She felt wicked, but couldn't help trying to get a rise out of him. He was so damn adorable when he was trying not to lose his temper. Even more so now that she had seen his softer side. Oh, she had seen him when he was interacting with Jack, but never this side of him that was the gentle, teasing lover who had apparently disappeared for this conversation.

"Emily..." His voice was getting icy and he looked exceedingly displeased. "If you make me watch that, I will -"

"You'll what?" she interrupted cheekily. "Spank me? Oh sir, please spank me."

Hotch glowered at her.

"Well, I just thought after that rather serious movie, we should have something different. And there's the added bonus that you'll learn who Justin Bieber is. You know Pen loves him. She has got a major case of Bieber fever." She tried to maintain her innocent expression. "C'mon, give him a chance."

A muscle ticked ominously in his jaw. She desperately tried to stifle a laugh. She had no idea he would be such an easy target. She had never teased him before, well, not seriously. Even when they were outside of work, he never let down his guard, always maintaining his professional distance. She knew that it was because he believed that as the leader of their unit, he had to be beyond reproach always. There was no time outs, no breaks, ever from that role.

She was so focused on her internal thoughts that she barely had time to emit a startled squeak when he pounced on her and relieved her of the remote. He rolled over, holding it far above his head and she leapt on him, trying to crawl up his body.

"No! Aaron, give that back." Emily tried to reach the remote, but failed. Not surprising, really, as she wasn't even trying very hard. She was somewhat distracted by the taut, muscled chest under her splayed hands. Derek may have the body that every woman fantasised about, but to her, Hotch's tall, lean, runner's body was incredibly sexy.

She looked up at him as her hands slowly stroked his pecs. "If I had known you looked like this under your suits, I'd have jumped you years ago."

His mouth hitched up in a smile, flashing his rarely seen dimples. God, she loved seeing him smile. If she had her way, he would smile all the time.

"If you had, I probably won't have said no."

"Bullshit."

Hotch choked on his laughter at her unexpected reply. "What?"

She gave him a disbelieving look, "As if you would have said yes. You are the most straight-laced, professional, totally beyond reproach unit chief in the history of the FBI. It's true," she said emphatically as he started to shake his head. He stopped when he saw that she was serious. "Aaron, do you know that you are the only person I know who is the true epitome of the FBI motto." He gave her a questioning look. "You know, fidelity, bravery, integrity. That's you. And I think you are amazing. I always have."

Emily felt warmth stealing into her face at the soft look that was now in his eyes, "O-kay, now that I've completely embarrassed myself, I'll just go hide in the bathroom." She made a move to slide off him, but he stopped her with a hand on her thigh.

"Emily, do you really see me that way?" He looked intently at her, waiting for her answer.

"Yes, I do. Of course I do."

"I don't know what to say, except - thank you. I don't know if I have those qualities you mention, although I do hope I have integrity at the very least." His face clouded over. "If you could only see the all the flaws in me, you'd run as fast and as far away as you could. Trust me on this."

She shook her head in denial. "I know you have flaws, Aaron, I do too. But you can't scare me away that easily. If only we had more time, I could _show_ you that you can't get rid of me that easily. In fact, if it wasn't for Doyle, you'd never be able to get rid of me, even if you wanted to." She hoped he could see that she meant every word of her conviction.

"That's good, because I'm never going to let you go, even if you wanted to, which is why we are going to catch him. Because I am not going to lose you again," Hotch's face was set with hard determination.

Emily knew she should tell him again that catching Doyle would be almost impossible, but she didn't want to. She wanted to stay in this bubble where it felt like anything was possible, catching Doyle, going back home and most of all, having a life with Aaron in it. She would even have willingly given up the job she loved and which she had once thought defined her existence, to be able to be with him; to see him first thing in the morning and last thing at night; to be able to hear his voice whenever she wanted to and to be able to make love for hours on end without the always present thought that their time together would soon end.

But she didn't say any of this. She didn't want to make him sad too. So she just rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. She felt his hand stroke her hair gently as she listened to the slow, steady beat of his heart.

**Please review if you can. And many, many thanks to all my reviewers, you are the best!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Next chapter finally up, sorry for the long delay everyone. Chapter 12 should be up tomorrow.**

Hotch shifted in his sleep and blinked as a strong ray of sunshine landed on his face. Instantly alert, he checked the time on his wristwatch. Crap. He was cutting it dangerously close for his meeting with Marais. Their extended cuddle had slowly led to more interesting things, which then led to them falling asleep.

He slowly extracted his right arm from under the sleeping Emily. Even with the time constraints he lingered for just a moment longer to gaze at her beautiful countenance. _God, she was beautiful._ The sun highlighted the dark red streaks in her hair, casting a glow on her skin. He would have given up his job without a second thought if he could have woken up with her every morning for the rest of his life. His watch beeped softly. Damn, now he really had to hustle.

He had a 90 second shower while brushing his teeth before quickly put on one of the two suits he had brought with him. Just as he was about to walk out the door, he realised that he hadn't combed his hair and rushed back into the bathroom. Where had his usual plan everything in advance and prepare for every situation self go? He felt almost flustered as he looked around for his wallet. Where the hell was it?

Just as he was about to go back into the bedroom to look there, a knock sounded on the door. Hotch frowned at his watch. He wasn't late – yet. Maybe it was the maid coming to make up the room. He hadn't remembered to put the do not disturb sign on the door last night. He quickly closed the door to the bedroom before checking the peep-hole. To his surprise he saw that it was an impeccably dressed middle-aged man with grey hair and a slight paunch.

He undid the chain and opened the door, having an inkling of who it might be.

"Ah, Agent Hotchner?" The man extended his hand to Hotch. "Forgive the intrusion, I am Jean-Phillipe Marais. We were supposed to meet at the cafe down the street?"

Hotch shook his hand. "Capitaine Marais. Please come in." He stood back to let the French detective in, extremely grateful that he had closed the door to the bedroom. He just hoped that Emily didn't decide to wake up and walk into the sitting room. That would make things very uncomfortable. Especially if she was undressed.

"I am sorry, I was early and was hoping to catch you before you left the hotel. On the way here I noticed that the cafe was actually closed today which I had not expected and I didn't want you to go to the trouble of trying to locate my mobile phone number." Marais looked apologetic as he gave the explanation.

Hotch shook his head and tried to put him at ease. "No, that's fine. I was running a little late myself or you would have missed me. Would you like to take a seat. I just need to get my wallet from the other room."

"Of course, of course, please take your time." Marais waved his hand telling Hotch that he would be fine.

Hotch had just taken two steps towards the bedroom when the door opened, stopping him fully in his tracks. Damn, damn, damn. _Emily, you have the worst timing ever_.

"Hotch, I heard voices and thought, oh!" she exclaimed when she saw Marais. Hotch saw her ivory expression pale.

Marais glanced up in surprise when he saw Emily standing in the doorway to the bedroom. Hotch looked back at Emily and saw what Marais would have seen. A tall, very beautiful woman with tousled light brown hair and dark eyes holding up a bedsheet which she had wrapped around herself. At least she wasn't nude, he thought. Unfortunately her wildly mussed hair, swollen lips and … (damn, was that a bite mark on her shoulder?) advertised loudly what she, and as a result, him, were doing in the very recent past. Hotch was frozen like a statue in the tableau, not ever having ever been in such a situation before and not knowing what to do or say.

Marais, to his credit, once he realised that Hotch wasn't going to say anything, did not miss a beat and walked straight up to Emily without even blinking. "Mademoiselle, I am Capitaine Jean-Phillipe Marais from the _Direction Centrale de la Police Judiciaire_. Pleased to meet you." He lifted Emily's free hand to his lips.

Emily blinked in surprise, but appeared to recover quickly, quickly covering up her embarrassment. "_Enchante_, Capitaine. I am Sophie. My apologies for interrupting your meeting, I had not realised that Aaron had company. I will leave you to continue." Marais stepped back further into the sitting room to give them some privacy. Before Hotch could say anything Emily disappeared for a second then came back, extending out her hand to him. "I thought you might be looking for this," she said. Hotch looked down at her hand and saw that she was holding his wallet.

"Uh, thanks." A million and one thoughts were racing through his mind as he took the wallet from her. He had no idea how he should explain her presence to Marais, but first and foremost he wanted to reassure Emily that everything would be fine. He hadn't missed the slight panic in her eyes at the thought that her cover might have been blown unintentionally. He moved closer to her and spoke in a low voice. "Emily, don't worry, okay? I'll sort this out with Marais and everything will be fine." When he saw that the worried frown on her face didn't subside, he continued, "You trusted me before, please trust me again. You know I'll do anything to keep you safe. Trust me."

Emily swallowed hard and then nodded, her eyes not leaving his. Hotch leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I should be back around 3 p.m. Promise me you won't leave while I'm gone."

"Okay," she whispered. "You better go." Looking at Marais, she raised her voice slightly. "It was nice to meet you, Capitaine. _J'espere que notre prochaine rencontre se deroulera dans de meilleures circonstances._" I hope that our next meeting will be under better circumstances.

Marais smiled at Emily's comment. "_Je l'espere egalement, Mademoiselle , et je suis impatient de vous revoir._" I hope so too, Mademoiselle, and I look forward to that time. He gave her a little bow.

"_Au revoir._" Emily returned his smile and walked back into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"Shall we?" said Hotch, indicating the door.

"Yes, of course," replied Marais. As they walked down the corridor to the lift, Hotch thought he should explain about Emily while they were still in a relatively private setting.

"Capitaine, I would appreciate if you would keep Sophie's presence in my room to yourself. Sophie is...was my colleague and is now living with a new identity in Paris as we have not caught the man who attempted to kill her. He is under the impression that Sophie is no longer alive and we need to keep it that way." Hotch decided to put his trust in Marais, having the gut feeling that Marais was a trustworthy person. He didn't bother explaining that he had only met Emily by chance.

Marais nodded thoughtfully. "I see, I see. Of course I will do so, there is no problem at all."

They stepped into the lift.

"So she was your colleague, Agent Hotchner? And now that she is no longer your colleague you are...?" Marais looked at Hotch, an understanding smile on his face.

"Please, call me Aaron," Hotch replied. "And yes, now that she is no longer my colleague..." his voice trailed off. Rather uncharacteristically for him, he wasn't sure how to define their relationship.

"Jean-Phillipe, please. Ah, I think the word you are looking for is _l'amour_, Aaron." Marais gestured to the right as they reached the glass entry door to the hotel, indicating they should head in that direction.

Hotch inclined his head, only pretending to agree out of politeness, uncomfortable with the turn their conversation had taken. But deep in his heart, he had to admit that it was starting to feel more and more like _l'amour_.

**I know nothing much has happened in this chapter, but I have to introduce Capitaine Marais as he is the reason Hotch is in Paris after all! Also, I thought it was time to start giving you an inkling of what Hotch is feeling. Let me know what you think if you have a moment.**


	12. Chapter 12

**As promised, chapter 12.** **I am trying to reply to my reviewers personally, but if I don't get to you, please forgive me. I am busy working on something new, but I want you to know that I VERY, VERY much appreciate the time you take to review my work.** **So thank you.**

Emily looked up from the magazine she was reading on the couch when she heard the key card being inserted in the door. She didn't realised she was holding her breath until she saw Hotch walk in. After the unexpected meeting with the detective she was on tenterhooks, waiting for Hotch to come back. She was unused to having to depend on another person for anything, even reassurance. If it wasn't for the fact that she had complete trust in him, plus the fact that she was loathed to leave him, she would very likely have escaped that moment he left.

She was very glad to see the flare of happiness and relief that lit his face when he saw that she was still there. She quickly got up and walked into his welcoming arms, feeling him press a kiss to her hair.

"I'm so glad you're still here," he said softly, when she finally pulled back to look up at his face.

"I couldn't leave without saying goodbye, could I," she said lightly, smiling up at him.

"No, you can't," he agreed, looking down at her, a sombre expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" Emily felt her heart skip a beat.

"Nothing, everything's fine. It's just," he sighed, "I don't want to think about saying goodbye yet."

"Okay." She was happy to avoid the subject too. "Let's talk about something else then. How did lunch with Marais go?" She walked to tiny dining table and poured herself a cup of cold coffee.

"Fine, he seems to be a good man," said Hotch as he shrugged out of his suit jacket and took his tie off. "We went to the conference and he introduced me to a few of his colleagues before the formalities began. I was originally planning to attend the whole thing but luckily Marais suggested I stay away and just turn up for my presentation as everything would be in French so it would pretty much be a waste of my time. You know me and foreign languages. I'm completely hopeless."

Emily smiled into her coffee cup as he walked into the bedroom to change. She raised her voice so that he could hear her. "Well, that might be true, but you're SOOO good at other things. And I'm super duper glad you're not going to be there 'cos I'd be lonely. I might have had to entertain myself, and what's the fun in that?"

Hotch appeared back at the doorway to the bedroom. He had obviously decided there was no point putting any pants on over his boxers and had only slipped on a black FBI T-shirt. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It may not be fun when you're doing it alone, but maybe if you had an audience?"

She quickly finished her coffee and walked up to him, intending to kiss him senseless as his words had quickly heated her insides. But as she drew closer to him she suddenly burst out in laughter.

Hotch frowned questioningly at her. "What's so funny?"

Emily couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer him. She finally waved a hand weakly towards his chest and he looked down at his T-shirt. "Ah." He grinned. "Did you think it was an actual FBI shirt? Morgan got that for me for Christmas last year. Obviously I only wear it at home."

She finally recovered from her laughing fit. "That's too funny. I would never have thought you'd wear something like that in a million years," she said, looking at the slogan on his T-shirt which read:

**FBI**

Then in small font underneath: Female Body Inspector

"Hey, I do have a sense of humour, you know," Hotch said rather indignantly. At her grin, he said, "Okay, admittedly it's way dusty and has been on the shelf for a long time, but it's still there."

"I know, I've seen it dust itself off and jump off the shelf a few times in the last sixteen hours." She reached up and pulled his head down for a kiss. Their lips met leisurely, slowly exploring each others' mouths. Emily shivered as the thrill of excitement that raced through her body from his kiss. She finally forced herself to pull away.

"Sorry Hotch, but I'm starving. I haven't had anything since ten this morning except five cups of coffee. Can you get me something please? Oh, by the way, hope you don't mind me borrowing one of your T-shirts."

"Seeing that it looks way better on you than it ever did on me, no, I don't mind at all," replied Hotch as he gave her a once over with his trademark laser like intense stare, making her feel as if he could see through the shirt. Another shiver stole through her as his eyes heated up.

While Hotch ordered room service, Emily returned to her spot on the couch but on the way back noticed that that there was a CD on the previously bare writing desk.

"What's that?" she asked when he put the phone down, gesturing towards it.

"Oh, that's a case that Marais wanted me to look at. He wanted to see what my opinion is about a string of murders that's been happening during the last four months. There's been nine deaths so far and the trail is cold. No suspects and very little forensic evidence." Hotch pulled out his laptop from its case where it sat under the desk. He sat down beside her as his laptop powered up then slid the CD in.

"Want to go over the case with me?" he asked her. The question was moot anyway as he had already tilted the laptop screen towards her as if it was second nature to him, pleasing her immensely.

"I'd love to," she said enthusiastically. She really missed her job despite all the ugliness and horror that was involved on a daily basis. It was because of what they did that people were saved and criminals brought to justice. She had been incredibly proud to have been part of the elite BAU and to have had the opportunity to serve her country and her fellow countrymen and women through carrying out her job.

"Emily, I realise that I've never said this to you, but you're one of the best profilers I have ever met. Probably the most gifted in the team, even better than Dave or me." Emily gaped at him, unable to believe she she was hearing.

Hotch looked at her intently and she see the sincerity in his face. "Dave and I are good, but a lot of our profiling was learnt through experience. Your profiling is instinctual. You get easily into the unsub's mind and see things that aren't immediately apparent to the rest of us because you're able to make a connection with the victim. And that's a gift." He paused. "I've really missed your input since you left. Sometimes I still turn around to ask you what you think then realise you're not there." She saw that the lines that bracketed his mouth had deepened. "It's been tough," he admitted.

Emily felt sorrow washed through her at the thought of the pain she had caused to her friends. "I'm so sorry for putting you through this. I never meant to hurt you. Or Reid, or Dave, or Pen, or Derek."

"Hey, it's ok," he said reassuringly, coming down to sit next to her on the couch, drawing her to him with his arm.

Emily rested her head on his shoulder.

"We're dealing with it fine. But when this is all over, you're coming back to the team."

She looked up at him.

"Because you are part of our family, and that's where you belong."

She tried to smile at him, wishing with all her heart that what he had said would come to pass.

**Please let me know what you think. Next chapter has some case fic and should be up soon.**


	13. Chapter 13

They spent the rest of the evening pouring over the files that Marais had scanned onto the CD. Well, that is, Emily poured over the files which were in French and gave Hotch the salient details which he then wrote down on his notepad.

"So the first two bodies found, both female, were located in the forest about 120 miles from Lyon. One had been stabbed multiple times in the chest and the other stabbed as well as shot several times in the head." Emily popped another french fry into her mouth as she looked at the autopsy photos. Her job experience, especially from her time in the BAU had pretty much guaranteed her an iron clad stomach. In fact, they were all the same, often having to eat on the go or multi-tasking like she and Hotch were doing at the moment.

"The next two bodies were also discovered in the same area, about two miles apart from the location of the first two, with similar stab wounds but here they were male and female. It also looks like these two were killed about two months earlier. There's another female body found after this, then another couple, varying causes of death. The only unusual feature was that the female found last was decapitated in addition to the stab wounds found on the skeletal remains."

"Marais told me that the autopsies show that all seven victims had either been strangled, beaten, shot and/or stabbed. There's also evidence of sexual assault on both the males and females. So it looks like the unsub spent progressively more time with each new victim," Hotch said, reaching over and taking a sip of red wine that he had ordered with her meal.

"He's gaining in confidence," said Emily thoughtfully. "I think the unsub is a highly organised, functioning individual, with a blue collar job. He probably lives in that area since all of the bodies were dumped there. What about the ballistics?"

"There's evidence that the gun used had a silencer, which shows that he's likely to be living in a fantasy world, probably considering himself as an outlaw." Hotch felt that there was something nagging at him. He scrolled through the electronic file hoping it would jump out at him.

"What's on your mind?" Emily asked, noticing the frown on his face. She gave an inward smile when she realised that she knew him so well that she could actually tell the different type of frowns that he had. There was the frustrated frown when they seem to have hit a dead end, the I-am-so-not-impressed by your performance frown (usually directed at LEO's), the c'mon-guys-give-me-a-break frown when the team was acting a bit too frisky and most common of all, the frown he has when he was concentrating or analysing a case. This was the one that he was currently exhibiting and she knew he was on to something.

"I'm not sure yet. Something's bothering me, but I don't know what." He kept scrolling down as he spoke.

"I don't think doing that's going to jog your memory seeing it's all in French. Unless you're looking for a photo. I noticed earlier that the CD has like 1298 pages of data. They got a lot of info from the public. I think there is some information in there that would definitely be useful for the case, but finding it will probably take us the rest of the tonight." Emily leaned her head on his shoulder.

"You're right," sighed Hotch, finally giving up and dropping his head back on the couch.

She raised her head and looked at him, somewhat startled at his reply. "I didn't think you would actually stop. Wow, I'm shocked."

He flashed her a look of mild irritation. "I'm not a complete workaholic."

"Ri..ight. And I'm not Emily Prentiss."

As his I-am-not-impressed frown starting to form, she quickly moved his laptop onto the coffee table and climbed onto his lap. "Not that it's necessarily a bad thing, but you must admit you tend to go above and beyond the call of duty, honey." What the... where did that endearment come from. Oh no, was he going to call her out on that?

But other than his frown subsiding, he didn't say anything about it. "I didn't say I wasn't a workaholic, just that I wasn't a _complete_ workaholic." He put two hands on her hips and nudged her closer, making her smile at his obvious intent.

"Lawyers," she grumbled as their lips met. But just as their kiss was deepening, Emily reluctantly pulled away, taking a deep breath to clear her mind which had grown fuzzy as a result of Hotch's talented lips.

"Hey," he protested, drawing close to kiss her again.

"Uh uh." She shook her head at him. "Your lips are just way too dangerous. I'm moving away before you tempt me again," said Emily, sliding off his lap and reaching over to pick up the laptop.

"What are you doing?" Hotch looked bemused as she went back to the first page of the file and started scrolling down.

"You might be able to let this go, which I personally don't believe, but I admit I can't. So I'm going to skim read the file and tell you what bits of information come up. Hopefully something will jog your memory and add to the profile."

Three hours, a bottle of red wine and two pots of coffee later, Emily had reached page 453. "Okay, we're still on information that the police have collated from the public ringing in." She suddenly sat upright.

"Did you find something?" Hotch looked up from his perusal of the map of the forest where the bodies had been buried.

"Maybe. Listen to this. The police spoke to someone who lived in the nearby town who told them that he had seen a 2005 black Renault Megane being driven by a tall, dark haired man and the person in the passenger seat had a gag on. This was around the time the first couple disappeared."

Hotch frowned. "That's it. That's the information the police need to focus on. This witness recalls more information than a normal person would. I think he might be involved. What do you think?"

"I agree. Also, it was strange that he didn't report this to the police at the time." Emily looked more closely at the report. "Yep, nothing that says the police were aware of this incident at the time it happened."

"I'm going to call Marais and tell him about the profile we've built and the witness they should investigate more closely." Emily felt a little thrill of happiness at his use of the word "we".

After he called Marais to tell him what they had found, Hotch walked back to the couch and held out his hand to Emily. "_Now_, Agent Prentiss, can we go to bed?"

"I thought you'd never ask, Agent Hotchner." Emily laughed in surprised delight when Hotch swung her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

**I am hopeless at case fic so had to base this bit on a real life serial killer. Next chapter up soon where Hotch does some shopping. Ha, I can already see you scratching your head. Stay tuned and thanks to all my reviewers. You are all wonderful!**


	14. Chapter 14

"Aaron." Marais extended his hand as Hotch stepped off the podium amid the subdued applause.

"Jean-Phillipe." Hotch shook his hand as they headed toward the back of the room.

"That was a very interesting presentation. Thank you so much for presenting those three cases that your team worked on. I can tell by my colleagues' reactions that they are extremely impressed and very interested in your work."

Hotch glanced around and saw that many of the attendees there were talking animatedly and a handful were even throwing him admiring stares. He looked back at Marais, glad that his habitual impassive facade hid his discomfort. "I'm honoured that you asked me here to present, Jean-Phillipe. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to do it in French, I realise some of the vocabulary I used may be too technical for some of the audience here."

"Please do not apologise. Your presentation was extremely useful and we have learnt a lot. Also, I did not have a chance to tell you that I believe we are close to catching the person, I believe you refer to him as the unsub?" At Hotch's nod, Marais continued. "We tracked down the person who provided us with the details of the car and we are interviewing him now. He has also mentioned to us that he lives with his cousin in the town of Le Chaux, which is only four miles from where the bodies were located. We are finally getting somewhere and it is all because of your help. I thank you very much, Aaron. And also please thank your tres belle Sophie for her help. I am sorry we were unable to translate those files for you."

"I am glad we were able to help." A thought occurred to him. "Jean-Phillipe. Could I ask you for a favour in return. I hope I won't have to call on you. But if anything happens, can I ask you to check on Sophie for me." During their lunch yesterday Hotch had found out that Marais used to work for Interpol and as a result, had felt that he could tell Marais that it was Ian Doyle who was the one that Emily was hiding from. Marais had not seemed surprised at this fact and had in fact told Hotch that if he heard anything useful that might be linked to Doyle, he would let Hotch know.

"_Mais oui_, of course, Aaron. And you can trust me. Please give my contact details to your Sophie and let her know that she can call me anytime she is in need. Anytime at all."

"It is my turn to say thank you. _Merci beau cul_, Jean-Phillipe." As they shook hands, Hotch was taken aback when Marais suddenly coughed as if he was trying to stifle a laugh.

"_De rien__._" It is nothing.

They finally parted ways, promising to keep in contact.

* * *

><p>"Emily?"<p>

Hotch walked into the suite, finding the living room empty. His heart started racing when he walked into the bedroom to find that she was also not there. _Please let her be here_, he thought, rushing into the bathroom. It was also empty. He walked back into the bedroom and looked around, noticing that her clothes were now missing. As his eyes roved over the unmade bed, he finally noticed the piece of folded paper on his pillow.

_Aaron,_

_I am fine. Please don't worry about me. I have gone home to get some clean clothes and check on my place. I'll be back by 2. In the meantime go explore the city and make sure you get a souvenir for Jack. Wish I could come with you – it would have been so much fun. See you soon._

_Emily xx_

_p/s. Miss you already and it's only been 23 minutes and 47 seconds._

Hotch could feel his heartbeat slowing back to its normal rhythm as he read the words she had written in her neatly printed hand. He could almost see her surfing the tv channels trying to find something to watch and having yet another cup of coffee while she thought about what else she could do. She was like him in that sense. She didn't like lying in bed when she could be up and about doing things. Being cooped up in a room must be driving her crazy.

He knew that she was absolutely happy being with him when he was there, but without him there and not being able to go out to the pool or the gym or even the bar to while away some time would have filled her with frustration. He could understand why she had left, but it still saddened him, as he wanted, no needed, to spend every second of the time he had left in Paris with her.

Deciding to take her advice and prompted by her comment about a souvenir for Jack, he quickly changed into more casual clothes. Before he left the room, he called up room service to ask them to tidy up the room before heading towards the direction of some markets he had seen a couple of days ago. If he had been more honest to himself, though, he would have admitted that he needed to get out of the room to distract him from his ever disquieting thoughts about his new feelings for her. And that there was nothing they could do to escape the fact that they would have to say goodbye.

He had a spot of luck in the first half hour finding a replica of the Eiffel Tower which featured flashing lights, ridiculously tacky, but he knew that Jack would love it. He then spent the next couple of hours window shopping, very surprised that he even had it in him. He was very much the get in, buy it and get out type like the majority of the male population. But he wanted to get something for Emily. Something more special than a pretty scarf or an expensive handbag or the latest winter coat.

He had pretty much given up by the time he took a croissant and coffee break. He was on the way back to the hotel when he saw 'it'. Something that was perfect for her. He stopped, staring at the display in the window. Should he? Would she even wear it? He stood there, plagued by indecision, an utterly foreign feeling for him. _Come on Hotchner, pull yourself together._ He took a deep breath and walked in.

**I have decided to post two chapters tonight, so enjoy. Please review if you can!**


	15. Chapter 15

"Hotch? Are you here?" Emily took off her wide brimmed straw hat dropped it on the desk and shrugged off her beige coat, slinging it over the back of one of the chairs at the dining table. She put a large paper bag on the table and started unpacking the contents.

"I'm here." She looked up, unable to deny the joy filling her as watched Hotch walk in from the bedroom. He slipped his arms around her, bending down to give her a long, passionate kiss.

"Mmm..." she said with a shiver, opening her eyes to find her fingers threaded through his short, dark hair. She smiled at him. "I think it's pretty safe to say that kiss was better than what women would have gotten from their husbands after they returned from fighting in a war. And we've only been apart, what," she glanced at her watch, "four hours."

His mouth was curved in a slight smile, giving the slightest suggestion of his dimples. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to be able to hold such a incredibly good looking, amazing man in her arms.

"Well, I won't call the conference a war, but it was a tough crowd."

"Really? Oh, poor baby," she murmured, reaching up to trail a line of kisses on his jawline. She was glad she was tall, so that when they were standing they fitted together perfectly. _And_ she could reach delicious bits of him like his jaw, his neck and if she stood on her toes, his ears. She grinned inwardly. Really was any part of him _not_ delicious? "What did Jean-Phillipe think?"

"He thought my presentation was good. I think he was happy that I was able to come." Hotch's arms tightened around her, lifting his chin slightly to give her more access. A sound that sounded almost like a purr rumbled in his throat. "He said to say thanks to quote your _tres belle_ Sophie unquote for your help."

Emily was only half listening at this stage. Her hands had stolen under his pullover and was busily exploring the smooth skin on his tautly muscled back.

"I'm not sure what I said at the end because I'm pretty sure he was trying not to laugh."

"What?" She paused in the act of nuzzling and kissing the soft skin just under his ear. She pulled back and looked up at him. "Why? What did you say?"

"I said _merci beau cul_. You know, thank you very much."

Emily stared at him for a second, then burst out in laughter, laughing so hard she had to double over and hold her stomach. She could just imagine the situation. Hotch wearing his extremely serious, completely professional face and then out popped those words those words.

"Oh God, what did I actually say?" she heard Hotch ask in a resigned voice.

"You...you..." Another peal of laughter escaped from her. When she finally recovered, she looked at Hotch to find an unimpressed expression on his face. Clearing her throat, she said, "You, my darling, said thank you, beautiful arse."

Hotch closed his eyes in embarrassment. "Damn it," he said in a strangled voice.

"It's _merci beaucoup,_ honey. Pronounced boo-koo as opposed to bo-ku."

Hotch's frown was back. "I cannot tell the difference between those two sounds at all."

"I am amazed Jean-Phillipe didn't laugh. Did you notice he didn't even blink when he saw me wearing just that sheet? Are you sure you aren't related?"

"So what's in there?" Hotch gestured to the paperbag. She grinned at his obvious ploy to change the subject. She decided to let him.

"All sorts of good stuff." Emily reached into the bag and pulled out a round object in blue packaging. "There's camembert, roquefort, brie, two types of crackers, grapes, dried apricots, chilli cashew dip, my favourite," she listed the items as she pulled them out of the bag. "And of course, a fresh baguette," she finished, pulling the crusty loaf out of the bag with a flourish.

"You know my weakness for all things cheese," stated Hotch with approval as he picked up a piece of dried apricot.

"Not to mention your fondness for anything strawberry related, the Beatles and hmm... how should I put it, a certain oral fixation." She flashed him a very suggestive grin, hoping he would take the hint. "Not that I'm complaining. You're oh soooooooo very good at it."

He flashed her a grin so gorgeous that he took her breath away. "I'm pretty sure you have the same oral fixation I do."

She gave him an unrepentant shrug as she popped a grape into her mouth. "What can I say? You just taste so good I can't help myself. Every time you're naked I just can't keep my mouth or my hands off you."

"In that case..." Emily watched, entranced, as he started taking his clothes off. First the grey pullover, then his t-shirt. She loved watching him, his movements always so fluid and economical in their efficiency. The fact that he was completely unselfconscious about his body was unbelievably sexy, which was something she didn't expect under his buttoned-up, almost uptight demeanour.

It was like there were two Hotchs, the serious, grim, always professional Hotch and this loving, tender, teasing Hotch with characteristics which she would never have profiled in a million years. But maybe she had something to do with it. In just the last two days she had seen him more relaxed than she ever had in the past. The lines on his face were not as deeply drawn, he was constantly touching her and had even cracked a handful of jokes. He was an amazing lover, always tending to her needs before his own and the care and tenderness which he had shown her almost brought tears to her eyes.

When she noticed that he had taken his jeans and boxer-briefs off, every other thought was wiped from her mind except that she wanted him. Right now.

**Super steamy scene up tomorrow! Reviews pretty, pretty please?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Two of my super loyal reviewers asked if I could post this chapter early, so you can thank them. M rating!**

Hotch's fists clenched around the duvet as Emily's tongue performed an intricate dance on the tip of his penis. Every now and again it would linger on the sensitive spot just under the head which then caused more blood to rush to his already rock hard member. He bit back a groan when her hand reached down to gently massage his testicles. Her tongue stopped its teasing and her mouth suddenly drew him in, sucking hard at the pre-cum which was now leaking continuously. His body tensed immediately and he forced himself to breathe deeply, trying to keep his approaching orgasm at bay. It never ceased to surprise him each time she pleasured him this way how talented her mouth was. The best thing though was how much she loved doing it, humming her enjoyment, which naturally heightened his. But he didn't want to finish in her mouth this time.

She protested when he drew her up to him but stopped when he said, "I need to taste you." She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes when he nuzzled her neck, breathing in the smell of her perfume and the scent that was Emily. Taking his time, he slowly kissed his way down her chest. He loved her breasts. They were delightfully full, slightly incongruent to her slim build. But they were perfect, with the pinkish brown nipples that begged to be kissed. He laved her right nipple with his tongue, swirling round and round, feeling it pebbling beneath his tongue. He moved to her left breast, lifting it and taking the nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. He felt her hands wind into his hair.

After a while, he moved further down, inwardly smiling at her sigh of disappointment as he ignored her most needy region, instead putting his hands around her left foot. As his thumbs massaged her sensitive inner sole, he took her big toe into his mouth and gently sucked. He gave the same attention to her other toes. Then he repeated his actions with her right foot.

"Aaron, please, I need you." He heard the urgency in her voice.

He put down her foot and pressed little kisses up her right leg. "What do you need?" He pushed her legs apart and licked her left inner thigh.

Her hands were suddenly in his hair, gripping the short strands with some force. "I need you to..." He heard the hesitation in her voice.

"Tell me, Emily," he said roughly, finally looking up at her face. She was breathing fast, a flush of arousal colouring her cheeks. She was never more beautiful to him than at that moment.

"I need you to lick me," she finally said in a whisper.

"And..." he prodded her. Neither of them were used to talking dirty in bed. He never thought he would be comfortable with it, maybe he was too prudish, but hearing the words from her was an incredible turn on.

"I need you to put your tongue inside me." She bit her lip as a blush washed over her already pink cheeks.

"It would be my pleasure," he murmured softly and put his mouth on her.

Emily couldn't control the scream that erupted when Hotch finally put his lips around her distended clitoris. She hadn't realised that she could get so aroused from all the attention he had paid to the other parts of her body. No one had ever done anything like that to her before. No one had ever taken the time to worship her body as Hotch as just done with his hands and lips and tongue. He only had to suck on that little bundle of nerves a few times before she exploded into a million shards of sensation, moaning his name over and over.

Before she had even begun to recover, he stroked his tongue over her soft opening, gathering up her juices which had flowed copiously even before her climax. She was embarrassed at how wet she was. But all embarrassment, in fact, all thoughts fled as she felt him enter her with his tongue. He swirled his tongue around, just inside her opening, touching super sensitive nerves there that she didn't even know existed. Then he was thrusting his tongue in and out and her hands reached up to desperately grab at the headboard. He withdrew his tongue and replaced it with two fingers, then three, this time with some difficulty. His tongue moved back up towards her clit, flicking it rapidly.

"Aaron, ohhh..." She felt the blood rush to her head and making her feel hot and dizzy. She couldn't believe she was about to come again so quickly. Suddenly the world went dark and she shuddered hard, thrusting her hips into his face as her body arched like a bow off the bed.

Again, he didn't give her time to catch her breath before flipping her onto her stomach and pushing her up onto her knees. Emily was so weak from her orgasm that she could only support herself on her forearms. She felt Hotch grasp her hips to position her and could only let out a low moan as he pushed into her. He wasn't rough, but he wasn't gentle either, not letting her get used to his size and girth like all the previous times. She wasn't sure if it was because of the position she was in, but he felt huge, her walls clenching around him in protest at the intrusion.

"Emily, relax," he bit the words out between clenched teeth. "I don't want to hurt you."

Despite the discomfort, tendrils of sensation were already curling out from where he was buried within her. As soon as she relaxed her inner muscles, he withdrew and trusted hard back into her, her groan of pain and pleasure muffled by the bed. Soon he was pummelling his rod into her hard and fast, assisted by the wetness from her two climaxes. Emily felt pleasure radiate inside her and closed her eyes, feeling herself stretch to accept him on every inward thrust.

She could hear his breathing becoming more laboured and when his rhythm became uneven, she knew he was close to coming. Her fingers curled into the sheets when his hand reached under her to stroke her clitoris. By now her clit was so sensitised that it only took a couple of strokes to send her past the point of no return. She whimpered into the bed, another violent orgasm washing through her as Hotch grabbed her hips with both hands and pushed himself violently into her and froze. Dazed, she only vaguely felt his member jerk as he released stream after stream of semen inside her.

She was fast asleep within minutes, never even feeling him straightening her legs and shifting her so that they were spooning together. Or the tender kiss he pressed against her hair before he too fell asleep, fingers entwined in hers.

**Whew *wiping brow* what did you think?**


	17. Chapter 17

**A bit of humor between our two favourite agents...**

"This is true decadence," sighed Emily as she flopped back on the big bank of pillows. She patted her tummy in contentment as she gave another sigh of satisfaction.

"I presume you're not referring to the actual food we've just eaten, so are you referring specifically to the act of us eating dinner in bed or the fact that we're having a mini vacation in a five star hotel?" Hotch gave her a look of amusement.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Just when I think you're finally letting loose you go and use words like referring and specifically and the act of. Seeing that the only things we have on are our underwear, we're clearly not at work so you can temporarily hang up your work Hotch persona."

"Excuse me, it isn't a persona, it's actually who I am," he said, sounding rather put out, an indignant expression on his face.

"Have I told you how cute you look when you're annoyed?" Emily flashed him a big grin.

It was Hotch's turn to roll his eyes at her as he reached forward from where he was sitting cross legged next to her and picked up a slice of baguette and some roquefort. "Yes, you have. And you've also told me how cute I look when I'm angry, frustrated, happy, sad plus a range of other emotions. Which is a crock. I am not cute. A three-year-old is cute. A grown man in his forties sporting a permanent frown is not cute. Ever." He ate the bread and cheese then leaned back on the pillows, reaching down automatically to press a kiss on the top of her head. "You're just saying that to get into my pants."

She giggled, rolling to her side so she could look at his face. "Wow, I didn't think you'd realised you have a permanent frown. Well, for your information, Agent Hotchner, I think you're incredibly cute, even when you have your permanent frown in place. And I'm obviously not just saying that to get into your pants, cos that deal's done and dusted."

"I beg to differ. I think you mean to say the deal's in the process." To emphasise what he had just said, he reached over and gave her long, lingering kiss.

"Speaking of our activities in bed, I need to discuss an issue which I feel needs airing."

Hotch groaned. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Don't worry, it's not really a bad thing, per se, but I have noticed there is a particular position that we haven't tried. Or rather, you haven't allowed me to try."

"I really can't imagine what that could be, seeing that we've tried a fair number of different positions barring the ones you'd find in the Karma Sutra," he replied drily. "Not to mention we've been on almost every piece of furniture in these three rooms. I think the only one we didn't try was position 13 in the "Top 20 Sex Positions that Men Love" in this month's issue of Cleo."

It was rare for Emily to be surprised into speechlessness, but Hotch had done it. She opened her mouth to retort and found that her mind had drawn a blank. She stared at the deadpan look on his face. Luckily she was only at a loss for a couple of seconds. "I'm going to deal with the fact that not only have you gone through my overnight bag, you read my magazine, the _sealed_ section, without my permission, in just a minute." She flashed him an evil look.

"What I'm referring to are your deep-seated issues of dominance and control. Specifically the fact that you seem unable to let me be in a dominating position." She waited for his reaction.

Which turned out to be disappointingly mild. "Let me get this right, you're profiling me as having issues of control because I haven't let you be on top," he replied, raising his eyebrows. "Maybe it's just because I know you're torture me to death if you're the one in control."

"Even if I wanted to torture you, which admittedly I sometimes like to do to draw it out a bit longer and make the end a bigger bang for you, I can't do it to you without punishing myself. You know I hate finishing without you when we're ..." she stopped, wondering if she should say the words that were on the tip of her tongue. Oh, what the heck, she thought, "...when we're making love." She was only going to be with him another 18 hours. Who knew when she would see him again, if she would even see him again. She didn't care if he knew how she felt about him. She was pretty sure he knew anyway, after all he _was_ the BAU Unit Chief.

Hotch's face softened. He reached over and pulled her up and over him so effortlessly that she was lying on top of him before she even realised what he had done. "Hotch?" she asked questioningly.

"I don't disagree with you that I have issues of dominance and control, no doubt due to my alpha male personality," he said this tongue in cheek and Emily smiled at his reference to Reid's comment on his character, "and yes, I do prefer positions where I have more control, but I do not have any problem with you being on top. At all. And to prove this to you, why don't we test this assertion out right now." He drew her down and gave her a passionate kiss. When they drew apart, he murmured, "However, could I just point out the fact that this position was not in the top 20 positions that men love, which just goes to show that it has nothing to do with my issues or personality."

Emily braced her hands on his chest and gave him an exasperated look. "Point taken. But I love this particular position, which should be enough for you. Now shut up and kiss me," she said into his laughing face.

**Let me know if you liked this chapter, I love hearing from you. Only a handful of chapters left.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Goodbye for now...**

They spent the next eighteen hours talking, eating and making love, dozing off in between, but always in each others' arms. There was an unspoken agreement between them not to bring up the fact that their time together was coming to an end. So they joked and laughed and talked about anything or everything else, both trying to hide the dread they were feeling at the mere thought of saying goodbye.

Hotch watched as Emily laughed at a particularly funny anecdote that he had just regaled about Jack and his new 'girlfriend'. He would have given up all his worldly possessions to have been able to freeze frame that moment: her head thrown back, eyes crinkled up with laughter, lips parted to show her brilliant white teeth, happiness clearly evident on her face. He could almost fool himself into thinking that they were just a normal couple on a holiday, lying in bed laughing at the memory of something their child had done.

But no. They were not a normal couple by any definition of the word and they didn't have a child together. They never would. He was surprised at how much pain that thought evoked. He had never thought about remarrying or having another child. He had promised himself that he would never again put himself in such a vulnerable position to allow someone else to have the power to hurt him. Jack, bright, funny, focused-to-a-frightening-degree Jack, he was enough. And yet, as he looked at Emily, Hotch yearned to have a child with her. A child with her beautiful dark eyes and her heart-stopping smile. He wanted a life with Emily, a life full of love and laughter and light, because she had brought light into his heart where he hadn't even realised there was darkness.

"Aaron, what's the matter?" He suddenly realised that Emily's hand was on his cheek, a concerned look in her eyes.

"Oh. Uh, nothing, nothing's wrong." His tone even sounded unconvincing in his own ears. What was he supposed to say? _I was just imagining what our lives would be like if we were together._ She would probably shut him down and run off before he could say 'just joking'. Or worse, start crying. And that would be the end of him.

"You don't have to hide anything from me," she said softly. The tenderness in her gaze almost unmanned him.

Hotch swallowed hard, unable to speak.

She gave him a sad smile. "Time's almost up. You know, I was going to just sneak out when you were asleep, but every time I moved you just tightened your arms around me and I just lost my will to leave. The last few days we've spent together..." she paused, looking as though she was searching for words, "...I can't even describe how incredibly happy I have been, how happy you've made me. I thought my life was over after Doyle and having to leave you all, but you've brought me back to life." She shook her head. "Sounds like an awful cliché, I know, but that's the closest I can describe it."

"I swore to myself that I was going to leave without saying this, but I have to. Because I don't know if I'll ever see you again. I want so much to believe I will, but I think that's just a fantasy and I'm not the fantastical type. So, here goes."

Hotch held his breath.

"I've told you that I have always admired you, your strength, your focus, your compassion and how you always put the team and the cases before yourself. But I've never dared even consider having feelings for you. You were my Unit Chief, always professional and beyond reach. Even when I considered you my friend, you still kept me at arms' length and I just never thought there would ever be anything between us. Then I saw you again at the cafe, and it was like someone had turned on a switch and I suddenly realised 'oh, _there_ you are'. That was why I had to see you again, despite everything rational and logical in me telling me not to." She stopped for moment, as if gathering her courage. Then she looked directly into his eyes, hers bright with unshed tears. "I love you Aaron Hotchner. I think I always have."

_Oh God_. "Emily," Hotch whispered hoarsely. He had known what she was going to say before she said it. Because he felt the same way. There was no point in hiding how he felt. She was right, time was up. "I love you."

Her tears finally spilled over, running down her cheeks in twin rivulets. "You do?" She bit her lip, uncertainty on her face.

"I do," he said. "I love you," he repeated, strongly this time so she wouldn't doubt him. He had finally admitted the truth to himself last night as she slept. She deserved the truth. He looked intently into her eyes. "You know when Reid was kidnapped you told me that one of my many faults was that I didn't trust women as much as men and you were right. So I tried to change, thinking that each time you were in danger the fear I felt was because I didn't trust in your abilities enough. Maybe that was so in the beginning, but that feeling never left."

He gently took her hands in his. "Then I started to depend on you for so many things and you became my friend. I knew I trusted you completely so I told myself I was just worried because you were my friend and I didn't want to lose you. But everyone else on the team was a friend and I didn't have the same feeling whenever they were in danger. So I stopped thinking about it. I'm really good at that." He laughed mirthlessly. "Now I know it was because I had feelings for you and didn't want to acknowledge that. I guess what I'm trying to say in a really roundabout way is that I've loved you for a long time."

"I can't believe we wasted all this time when we could have been together and now it's all too late." Emily's fingers tightened around his, her eyes filled with sadness and regret.

"I know what you said about not being the fantastical type, God knows I'm not, but we're going to see each other again, Emily. Soon. I'm going to make sure of it."

When she opened her mouth to protest, he silenced her with a kiss. "No, don't argue with me, you know it's pointless." He gave her a hard look. "Which is why we are not going to say goodbye."

"Aaron," she started saying softly. Hotch shook his head, silencing her. Then he remembered the gift he had bought for her.

"I have something for you." Hotch reached over to the bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out a small velvet covered box. He turned back to her and pressed the box into her left hand.

"What...Aaron, what's this?" Emily's voice quivered as she looked up at him, trepidation in her eyes.

Hotch knew what she was feeling, because his heart was pounding so hard with a mixture of adrenalin and nervousness that he could barely hear her. "Open it." He was glad to hear that his voice sounded reasonably steady.

Emily opened the box, her hands trembling visibly. "Oh," was all she said. From the black velvet bed, a square prism shimmered at her. The brilliant square cut diamond was set into a white gold ring, which was embedded with small rectangular diamonds on either side on the top of the band. She touched it with the tip of her index finger, wonder on her face.

She stared at it for a long time, not saying a word. Then, "Aaron, I can't accept this." She looked up at him, pain and longing in her eyes.

Hotch ignored his the pain that sliced through him at her words. "Before you say anything else, listen to me. I'm not asking you to marry me, Emily, at least, not yet. But I want you to have this to remember the time that we have had together. I want you to keep it, because the next time we meet, that's going to be your engagement ring. But for now," he took the box from her unresisting hand, removed the ring and placed it on her right hand, "think of it as a promise. That we will be together soon."

"Aaron, I don't know what … what to say." She swallowed hard, tears in her eyes, joy and pain reflected on her face. "What if Doyle can't be found? We won't be able to meet again. Because I can't put you or Jack in danger. I just can't."

"Listen to me Emily. I will protect Jack and you know I can look after myself. The team is more than capable of looking after themselves and they've got me. You don't. You just concentrate on looking after yourself and leave Doyle to me. I will find him, Emily, I swear this to you. Even if I have to give up my job to look for him, I will. Trust me." He bent his head down towards her, face close to hers so that she could see the conviction in his eyes.

She smiled at him tremulously. "I do. But please, please, promise me you'll be careful. If I lose you, I won't have anything to live for."

"You'll never lose me, sweetheart." He kissed her gently on her lips, drawing away reluctantly. "My heart belongs to you now, and it will always be with you, no matter where I am."

"Just as mine belongs to you," she whispered as she slipped her arms around him, holding him tightly.

They held each other for a long time, kneeling on the bed.

Hotch had to force himself to pull away from her. "I'm sorry my love, but I have to get ready to go."

Emily nodded and he knew that she was afraid to speak in case she broke down and cried.

She watched silently as he showered, dressed and packed up the last of his toiletries and clothes. She slipped on a bathrobe and walked with him to the door of their suite.

"Hey, no tears ok?" Hotch gently wiped her tears away with his thumbs. She nodded and tried to smile, lips trembling.

"And no goodbye. So _au revoir,_ my love." He looked at her beautiful, tear-stained face, trying to commit it to memory.

"_Au revoir._" To the next time we see one another. "_Je 'taime_," she whispered as they lips met for the last time. I love you.

As he sat back in the taxi, Hotch finally let the tears that had been burning in his eyes finally fall, never noticing the face of the woman he loved looking down from the eighteenth floor.

**I know that was sad, but have faith! Review if you have a moment please.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Here's the next chapter, but first a huge thank you to the beautiful VioletteParis, who helped me out with the French phrases. You are really wonderful! Any mistakes are mine alone.**

Emily looked up from her laptop at the sound of a faint ringing sound. She frowned, wondering what the sound was, then realised that it was coming from her disposable cell. In the eleven months that she had been in France, she had only ever received two calls, including this one. To preserve her identity, she changed her prepaid cells every month and only ever gave the new number to her contact at the American Embassy in Paris.

"Hello?" she said, somewhat hesitantly, feeling the prickle of sweat break out on her palms and her heightened heartbeat. Surely Doyle hadn't managed to track her down.

"_B__onjour, pourrais-je parler à Sophie Delon?" _Hello, am I speaking to Sophie Delon?

"_Je suis Sophie Delon, qui est à l'appareil? ?"_ I am Sophie Delon, who is this speaking? It didn't sound like Doyle, but that meant nothing.

"Sophie, this is Jean-Phillipe Marais from the DCPJ. I don't know if you remember me, but we met at the Hotel Sofitel du Fauvant when you were there with Agent Hotchner."

She breathed out a silent sigh of relief. "Jean-Phillipe. Of course I remember you, how could I forget how we met? What can I do for you?" All the while her brain was whirling with questions. How did he get this number and more importantly, why was he calling? _Oh God, was Aaron hurt?_ Not giving him a chance to reply, she blurted, "Has something happened to Aaron?"

Marais must have heard the barely suppressed anxiety in her voice as he quickly spoke to reassure her. "_Oh non, non,_ Sophie, Aaron is fine as far as I know. I am calling you about another matter. Before he left, he told me about your history with Ian Doyle and why you are now living in Paris. I am calling you about Doyle. My friend in Interpol has contacted me with some news."

Emily's breath froze in her throat. Had Doyle finally made a mistake and exposed himself? If so, she could get to him. This time, she would make sure that he was dead. She no longer cared about any oaths she took in the past or even if doing so meant that her soul would be beyond redemption. She had to protect her family. And she _had_ to get back to Aaron. She missed him so much that sometimes it was almost unbearable.

"Sophie? Are you there?" She heard the concern in Marais' voice.

"Yes, yes, I am here." Her hand clenched tightly around the phone, knuckles white with tension.

"You should sit down, Sophie."

Barely able to breathe, Emily backed up until she felt the armchair behind her and sat down unsteadily. "I'm sitting down. Please Jean-Phillipe, just tell me."

"Interpol was investigating a group of individuals who had been been smuggling weapons, cash, drugs, pharmaceutical products, basically anything profitable. They managed to obtain information of a meeting between them and their client for a very large shipment of weapons bound for the middle east. I will not go into the detail here, as you don't need to know right now, but during the operation, a gunfight broke out and both parties sustained a number of casualties. It was only when the bodies were examined that they realised that one of them belonged to Ian Doyle." Marais paused. "Sophie, Ian Doyle is dead."

Emily went in shock. The cell fell from her suddenly nerveless hand and landed on the floor. She stared in space for endless moments, mind blank. She felt completely deflated, purposeless, rudderless. All that time she had spent chasing leads, finding old contacts, planning how to take him down, was all for nothing. The only purpose that she had lived for the past year was suddenly gone and she didn't know what to feel.

The ringing of the phone jerked her out of her thoughts and she looked blankly at the cell, before finally reaching down and picking it up.

"Sophie? Sophie are you there? Please answer me." Marais' voice reverberated loudly out of the phone speaker but Emily didn't even flinch. Even her hearing was somehow muted in her state of shock. "Sophie, answer me."

"I...I'm here." Was that her voice? It was hoarse and scratchy, almost unrecognisable.

"Are you all right?" Marais sounded worried. He probably should be, she thought vaguely. She was completely numb, emotionally and physically.

"Sophie, tell me where you live. I will come over now."

"No, no. Thank you, but I'm fine." There was something nagging at her. What was it? _Come on, Emily, think!_ She forced herself to focus. That's it. "Jean-Phillipe, have you done DNA tests to confirm that it is Doyle?"

"Yes, we have. The result was confirmed only two hours ago and as soon as I was able to, I called a Monsieur Howard Jones at the US Embassy and after he confirmed my identity, he gave me your number. So Sophie, you have nothing to be afraid of any longer."

"I can't believe it. It's just so unreal, Jean-Phillipe. I spent so much time looking for him and planning for everything, this is unbelievable." Emily shook her head, still feeling dazed from the impact of the news.

"I understand, Sophie." There was a pause on the phone and Emily heard a muffled conversation. Marais must have covered the mouthpiece while he spoke to someone else. "_Pardon,_ Sophie, I was talking to my Commandant. Would it help you if you could see Doyle's body for yourself?"

"You can really do that for me?" She wanted, no, needed to see for herself. To make sure he was dead. She hadn't dared hope that it was possible.

"Yes, I can. That was the reason for my conversation with my Commandant. Besides, I owe you and Aaron a big favour for providing help with the serial murders three months ago. We have made an arrest and it was very much due to the both of you. So are you able to come to the DCPJ? Or I can pick you up."

"I...yes, I can get to the DCPJ." Emily's head was whirling. Everything was happening so fast. And it didn't help that at the back of her mind, a little voice was chanting, Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, continuously.

"All right, the address is 11, Rue des Saussaies. Will you come now?"

"Yes, I will. I should be there in 40 minutes." Emily was already standing up and looking for her handbag.

"Good, I will expect you then. Just say you are here to see me when you get to the front desk."

"All right. Oh, and Jean-Phillipe?"

"_Oui?_"

"_Merci beaucoup, __je vous remercie de tout coeur__._" Thank you so much, I thank you with all my heart.

"_Oh mais ce n'est rien__. C'est un plaisir de vos aider." _It is nothing. It is my pleasure to help.

**Guess what's coming up next? :D I hope I didn't disappoint you by not having a full on Doyle case fic, I thought about it but decided in the end that I will keep this one a 'pure' romance. But let me know what you think. Thanks so much!**


	20. Chapter 20

**I had a large number of reviews for my last chapter so I was unable to personally reply to each of you. But I do thank you all so very much for taking the time to drop me a review. I'm so glad you are enjoying this fic. And now on to the reunion...**

Tap tap.

Hotch looked up at the door. Who could it be at this time of the night? He sighed as he got up from the kitchen table where he was completing his report of the last case. It better not be Dave coming over to complain about his most recent attempt at dating. This would make it the third time in seven weeks and to be honest, Hotch was a little over it. Talking about women and dating made him miss Emily even more than he already did.

As always, the pain ate like acid at his gut at the thought of her. He had thought he felt pain when he failed to protect her from Doyle, but this was something else. Emily not only held his heart, she _was_ his heart, his soul, his very life. Without her he was just a shell. Able to function outwardly, but inside feeling empty. Without Emily, he was empty of all feeling, of all life. Except the pain of missing her.

He was so involved in his thoughts that he didn't check the peep-hole before unlatching and opening the door. "Dave, you've got to stop..." he started saying before the door was fully opened. Then he saw who it was standing in the doorway.

And just like that first time he saw her in the cafe in Paris he was struck speechless. But this time it was from the joy that had rushed through him at the sight of her. "Emily." His voice was hushed. If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake himself up. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Her hair was dark again, shoulder length and curled slightly, just like it was when she first joined the team. She was thinner than she had been in Paris, he could tell despite the black woollen coat she was wearing. Her dark eyes were glistening with tears and her lips were trembling.

"Hey," she whispered.

He didn't know if he moved first or she did, but they were suddenly in each others' arms. "Emily," he said again, hoarsely, his throat tight with emotion. He held her tightly against him. He slipped his left hand through her hair, pressing her head against his shoulder, burying his face in her hair and inhaling. She smelt just like he remembered, no, better, a hint of strawberry in her hair.

It was a long, long time before they drew apart slightly to look at each other. Hotch smoothed back her hair, looping a curl behind her ear. "Hey back," he said softly. They stared at each other and their lips slowly met for a kiss. A tender kiss that conveyed all the yearning and love that each felt for the other. They broke off their kiss and looked deep into each others' eyes, happiness radiating from both of them. Hotch leaned close and kissed Emily again, a kiss which soon deepened and became heated, lips ravaging and tongues mating.

They jumped apart in surprise at a shout from Hotch's next door neighbour. "Oy Agent Hotchner, how about you get a room!"

Hotch looked at Emily as her surprised expression quickly changed into suppressed laughter. He could feel his lips twitching and he tried to put on his habitual inscrutable expression before turning towards his nosy neighbour.

"Thanks Mrs Rosenberg. We will." He quickly pulled a now giggling Emily into his apartment.

"I do hope young Jack isn't at home!" they heard Mrs Rosenberg yell as the door closed.

"The joys of living in an apartment block," muttered Hotch as Emily broke into a fresh round of giggles. He knew he should be feeling annoyed with Mrs R, but if her nosiness made Emily laugh, it was more than worth it. He smiled, watching her cover her mouth to stifle the sound, her dimples flashing. He still couldn't believe that she was right here, standing in his lounge room.

"Emily, what are you doing here?" He couldn't bear to be with her and yet not touch her so he took her hand and led her towards the nearest armchair. He sat down and pulled her down onto his lap, one hand resting on her thighs and the other around her hips.

She looked at him, a trace of nervousness on her face. "I'm sorry, I should have called, but I didn't know what to say, so I decided to just come surprise you."

"Well, you certainly did that," he said ruefully. "What's happened to Doyle?" Hotch went straight to the point. He wasn't one to tiptoe around any subject and he knew that Emily knew that too. Something must have happened. Emily would not have turned up if she knew that doing so would put any of them in danger.

"You're not going to believe this, but he's dead."

"What?" Hotch was shocked into silence for a while. "Are you sure, Em?" He could hear the disbelief in his voice.

"Yes, he is." Emily shook her head. "I didn't believe it either, but your friend Marais called me out of the blue and told me that he was killed in a shoot-out with the police when they had a crackdown on a high profile smuggling ring. They've done DNA tests and it really is Doyle."

Hotch frowned, still not completely convinced. "I trust Marais, but, I don't know," he said slowly.

"It really is true. I went to see the body."

He looked intently into her eyes and saw the joy and relief that shone there. "You really saw his body?"

"Yes."

"And you're sure it's Doyle."

She nodded. "I'm very sure." She paused, a trace of uneasiness crossing her face. "It was definitely his face and…I also saw a scar on his thigh." She didn't expand on her statement. It was clear that she had seen the scar before. Hotch knew that it was also likely that it occurred in intimate circumstances. It didn't matter to him. It was in the past and he knew that it was him that Emily loved, not Doyle.

"So it's over." He couldn't believe that the threat that had been hanging over her, over all of them, was gone.

"Yes." She looked down at him, moistening her lips. "I didn't really make any plans, I just knew that I had to see you. So I jumped on the first flight I could get." Hotch heard the uncertainty in her voice.

"Sweetheart, did you think I didn't want to see you? If you had any idea at all of how much I thought of you the last few months, you wouldn't have any doubts at all. I love you Emily, I always will. My feelings haven't changed since Paris."

She didn't take her eyes of his face. "I guess being away from you made me doubt everything. Some days I couldn't even believe that we were ever together in that hotel. I was so lonely without you," she whispered.

"It's all right," said Hotch, drawing her down until she was lying on his chest, holding her close to him. "You don't ever have to be lonely again."

"You promise?" She slipped her arms around his neck lifting her face up to his.

"I promise." He looked at her then bent down and kissed her tenderly.

"Where's Jack? I want to see him," she murmured when he lifted his head.

"He's visiting his grandparents for a week." Hotch thought he could look at her forever and never become tired of the sight.

"Oh." Hotch smiled at the disappointment on her face.

"You'll see him soon, I promise. In the meantime, though, I plan to be selfish and keep you to myself for a little while. That's if it's ok with you."

She gave him a big smile. "Absolutely." She was silent for a moment. Then, "We have lots of catching up to do. Plus try out position number 13." She gave him a wink.

Hotch laughed out loud. God, he had missed her. "In that case, I better give Strauss a call and tell her not to expect me in for the next few days."

"Hotch, I need to call my mother. And she would probably want to see me straight away. I'm sorry. I should have thought this through a bit better." She looked worried.

"Hey, I'm just really glad you came. Go call your mother. She needs to know. Why don't you do that while I make you a cup of tea?" He stroked her cheek softly.

"Okay, thank you, sweetie." She gave him a quick peck on his lips and then hopped off to get her phone.

**On the home stretch now, beautiful readers. Emotional chapter up tomorrow. Please review if you have a moment.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Reunion continued... I hope you like this chapter, I personally think it's rather lovely :)  
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Hotch put the kettle on, then decided he would tidy up his files as he waited for her to finish her conversation with her mother. By the time she came into the kitchen, the tea was ready and he passed the mug to her.

Emily took a sip and closed her eyes in delight. "Thank you, this is sooooo good. I've missed my favourite jasmine tea. I couldn't get this brand in France. Wait," she wrinkled her nose at him. "This isn't from before I left is it?"

"I had to brush some cobwebs off the box in the cupboard, but I'm sure the teabag's fine." Hotch's lips twitched at her wide eyed look. "Just kidding. I bought a new box just a couple of months ago, you've got me hooked on them too. I don't like having coffee in the evenings when I'm home."

"You are such a tease." She rolled her eyes at him. "Wow, and I used to think you were a stuck-up prude." She gave him an expectant look over the rim of her mug.

His only response was to raise his eyebrows slightly. "I am not taking that bait, you little devil. What did your mother say?"

"She's going to fly in tomorrow lunch time. After the shock wore off she wasn't happy at all as you can imagine, but I think she's getting over it." She put her mug down and walked over to him, slipping her arms around his waist. "So, we've got all night and all tomorrow morning to ourselves. Well, that's if you can tear yourself away from your files." She glanced over at the precarious stack of files sitting on one side of the dining table.

"Hmm...let me think. Should I write reports or take an incredibly beautiful, intelligent, warm and funny woman to bed?" He smiled at the extremely pleased expression on her face.

"Is that what you really think of me or are you just saying that to get into my pants?" she teased, reminding him of their conversation in Paris.

"I need to give you compliments to get into your pants? Really?" He somehow managed to keep a straight face.

She smacked his arm. Hard. "Are you saying I'm easy, Aaron James Hotchner?" She gave him a glare.

"Oh, no, I won't dare to say that," he said, finally giving her a smile.

"Actually," she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him down towards her, "I'm pretty easy when it comes to you." Their lips met slowly. Emily gave a hum of appreciation as Hotch leisurely slid his tongue into her mouth, touching his tongue with his. By the time the kiss ended, Hotch's temperature had gone up several notches and they were both breathing rather heavily. "Wow, your lips really are lethal," she breathed as she lifted her head. "I am sooooo glad the women around you are blind."

Hotch grinned. "Or maybe you are. I'm pretty sure all they see is an almost middle-aged, frustrated single dad with a permanent frown on his face. Definitely not spouse material."

"Hah! Little do they know that underneath that permanent frown is this amazingly tender man who makes me laugh, an awesome dad and..." she paused for dramatic effect, "the best lover a woman could even wish for. I promise that after tonight you won't be frustrated ever again. Because my body is yours for the taking. Anytime." She gave him a smile full of seductive promise.

"Really?" Damn, he had planned to do the honourable thing and let her sleep tonight after her long flight, but that plan was rapidly changing to much less honourable thoughts. And actions.

"As long as your body is mine."

"I'm all yours, sweetheart, do what you like with me." The more wicked, the better, he thought, smiling at her devilishly.

A flash of reflected light caught his eye as she turned around. He stopped her, drawing her close to him with her right hand. He looked down at her fingers. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it earlier. "You're still wearing my ring." Wonder filled him. He had hoped, but never expected her to still have it on.

She looked at him quizzically. "Of course I am, why won't I be?"

Hotch shook his head, unable to answer. He slowly twisted the ring until it came off her finger. He had planned it all in his head these past few months. How he was going to propose to her. First, dinner in that new Italian restaurant in town, then a drive to the harbour, then the actual proposal on the softly lit jetty. He knew how much she loved being near water. But this moment suddenly felt right.

He took her left hand in his and as he looked deep into her dark eyes, the questioning look on her face slowly turned to wonder.

"Emily Grace Prentiss, will you make me the happiest man in the world and do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Hotch could feel his heart racing. _Please say yes. Please._

Tears started to form in her eyes. "Yes," she whispered, giving him the most incredibly beautiful smile he had ever seen, joy radiant on her face. He knew at that moment that he would never forget this look on her face as long as he lived.

He gently pushed the ring on her finger, then brought her hand up to his lips.

"I love you, Emily Prentiss," he said softly.

"And I love you, Aaron Hotchner," she murmured as their lips met.

**Please review and let me know whether you liked this chapter! Reviewer number 200 gets a one-shot of their choice, naughty or nice ;P  
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	22. Chapter 22

**The final chapter...**

"Hey Hotch." Emily heard Morgan's greeting as she stood outside the meeting room. She swallowed, trying to ease the dryness in her throat. Her palms were sweating and she could feel the fast thumping of her heart. What were they going to think when they see her. Would they be shocked, angry, hurt, happy? All of the above?

"What's the reason for the meeting? JJ says that she's not aware of a case and we just had a team meeting yesterday." Emily could picture the questioning look that Morgan would currently be sporting.

"I didn't ask you all to come in here for a meeting. There's something I need to tell you. There's no easy way to say this, but Emily's alive."

There was a stunned silence in the room.

Hotch continued. "I know, I was as surprised as you are now when I found out, but it's true."

"What..."

"How..."

Suddenly there was a loud chorus of voices. There was silence again after a moment and Emily could picture Hotch lifting his hand for quiet. "We'll explain everything later, but right now Emily's waiting to see you."

That was her cue. Emily took a deep breath and walked through the door.

"Dear, sweet Lord," she heard Penelope whisper.

"Emily?" Reid looked stunned.

"I can't believe it." Rossi.

With the exception of JJ and Hotch, her ex-teammates stared at her with varying degrees of shock.

"Hi guys." Emily had a speech all planned out, but upon seeing the faces of her dear friends, her family, she couldn't remember a single word of it. Luckily, before she could think about saying anything else, she was enveloped in Penelope's arms. Emily hugged her back just as tightly.

Penelope finally drew back. "Emily, I...I...can't believe you're alive! How, what, why..."

Emily smiled weakly. "It's a long story."

"Welcome back," interrupted Dave, giving her a warm hug.

"Thanks Dave." Emily felt tears sting her eyes as she looked over at JJ.

JJ came over and as they embraced, Emily whispered, "Thanks so much for everything."

She looked over JJ's shoulder to see Reid standing awkwardly to her right, a mixture of emotions on his face. Shock, hurt and joy all battling for precedence. When JJ released her, Emily walked over to him. "Can I have a hug?" She smiled at him, lips trembling.

Reid was so overcome that he couldn't answer, but he swallowed hard, then nodded. When his arms came around her, Emily closed her eyes and held him tight. "I'm so sorry for hurting you, Reid."

They drew apart and Emily looked at all her of them. "I am so very sorry for not telling you the truth. I never meant to hurt any of you. I just couldn't risk putting any of you in danger. I know you're probably angry with me now and I understand, but you need to know if I could go back in time, I'd still do everything exactly the same."

"You're so right we're angry with you," scolded Penelope, brows furrowed. "You're our family, we could've protected you."

"Thanks Penn, but I was beyond your help, really. I just had to go." The whole time Emily could feel Morgan's eyes focused on her and she was intensely aware that he didn't step forward to hug her as the others had. She finally lifted her eyes to meet his and drew a breath at the anger that blazed there.

"Derek..." she started to apologise again to him, but he gave an angry shake of his head and stormed out the door.

"Sorry, guys, I just have to..." she gestured after Morgan and quickly followed him out of the room. He had been such a good friend to her. She had to talk to him, make him understand why she did what she did.

She found Morgan standing at his desk, hands braced on the surface. "Go away Emily," he gritted out, not turning his head.

"I'm not going away, not ever again." She paused waiting for him to say something, but he was silent.

"Derek, it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, running away when I knew that you all thought I was dead. Even my parents thought I was dead. Do you know how hard it is to live knowing you couldn't contact anyone you love because if you did, they could die, all because of you? I love you all so much, you're my family. Even if you don't agree with what I did, surely you have to understand why I did what I had to."

Morgan slowly straightened up, but he still didn't turn to face her. "Do you know what Reid said when we realised you had gone after Doyle? He said, 'why didn't she ask us for help, we're her family'. You just said we were your family, but you didn't trust us to help you."

Emily felt a wave of despair rushing over her at the anger in his voice which he didn't bother to conceal. "That's not true. I trusted you, maybe too much. I knew you would all go after Doyle if I had told you the truth. I knew Doyle and he would have done anything to get at me, not just hurt you, but your families as well. Would you really have forgiven me if something had happened to your sisters, or your mother?"

Morgan was silent, but after a long while she saw the tension slowly drain out of his shoulders. He slowly turned around and looked at her. Although he didn't look happy, she was immensely relieved to see that he no longer looked at her with anger in his eyes. "I don't know if I can forgive you yet for hiding the truth from us and then pretending you were dead when you weren't. But I guess I can understand your reasons for doing what you did," he said quietly.

"I don't expect you to," she said softly, "and your understanding is enough for now."

They looked at each other for a long moment and then Morgan walked up and put his arms around her. "I'm really glad you're back, princess."

Emily bit her lip to hold back her tears. "I'm so glad to be back."

* * *

><p>That night, they gathered at Emily's favourite Italian restaurant to celebrate her return. The mood was jovial and Emily was amazed and relieved to see that they had all adjusted so well to her unexpected return. She had spent all afternoon explaining her actions and telling them what she had been doing since she had been gone, but she left out the bit about meeting Hotch. She was still unsure how they were going to break the news to the team, which was why she was not currently wearing her engagement ring. That would have led to too many questions.<p>

She smiled at Rossi as he topped up her wine. She almost couldn't believe that she was back among the team. They were the closest to a family she ever had. She was finally home again and it felt wonderful. Reid's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hey Emily, where are you staying?" Reid reached over to grab a piece of garlic bread.

"Oh, umm..." Emily froze, wine glass halfway to her lips. She looked over to Hotch, who happened to be sitting to her left, for help, then groaned inwardly when she realised what she had done. How the hell could she have forgotten that she was sitting with a group of profilers? _Stupid, Emily, stupid_.

She saw Hotch's mouth twitch and looked around to see that everyone's conversation had come to a halt when they saw her reaction. Dave's eyebrows were raised as he looked between her and Hotch and she saw JJ hiding a smile as she took a sip of her wine spritzer. Everyone else's eyes were fixed on her.

"Why are you looking at Hotch, Emily?" Reid asked innocently, or rather, faking innocence, thought Emily, narrowing her eyes at him. "Don't you know where you're staying?"

Hotch finally chuckled. To Emily's shock, he reached over and took her left hand in his right. "You're probably going to figure it out soon enough so we might as well tell you now." _Oh wow, he was going to tell everyone now?_ Trust Hotch not to bother consulting her. She was so going to have to do something about this alpha male personality of his, at least when it came to their relationship.

Now it was Hotch who had everyone's rapt attention. Penelope's eyes and mouth were already hanging open in shock from Hotch's hand clasping Emily's.

"Remember that trip to Paris three months ago? I came back and all of you were joking that I was in a foul mood because I must have had a brief love affair with a French woman and then had to leave her?"

What? Emily looked up at Hotch. She didn't know which to be more amused about. Hotch being in a foul mood or the team teasing him about it. Okay, she wasn't amused that he had been in a foul mood, she hadn't dealt with his absence all that well herself. His teasing by the team though, that was pretty funny.

She looked to the team and they were all nodding emphatically. Morgan caught her eye. "Babe, you have no idea. You think you've seen him mad before, this was like _off_ the scale. Strauss was so scared of him that she avoided him like the plague." He rolled his eyes as everyone chimed in their agreement. Emily tried to suppress a smile.

"_As_ I was saying," interrupted Hotch, shaking his head in exasperation, "that was actually half true because it was Emily I met on my first day there. I only found out then that she was alive. I didn't know before that. Like all of you I thought she had died. We didn't plan on it but we spent the next few days together and we fell in love." He paused, looking down at Emily.

Everyone was completely silent and staring at them in awe. But she didn't notice. All she saw all the love and tenderness in his face that was evident for all to see. Stoic, impassive, emotions-always-hidden Hotch was actually showing everyone what he felt for her. She tightened her hold on his hand, trying to show him how she felt.

Hotch smiled warmly, not taking his eyes away from hers. "So last night, I proposed to Emily and she accepted."

They looked into each others' eyes and for just a moment, before all the hugs and tears and congratulations, there was only the two of them, no one else.

_I love you so much_, said his eyes. _I love you too_, hers shone in reply.

_La fin_

**I have loved writing this piece so much and sharing this with all of you. Thank you with all my heart for following this through to the end and for all your kind reviews. As always, please do review if you can. A reminder that reviewer number 200 gets a one-shot from me :)  
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